


Awakening

by Edele Lane (Edyn04)



Series: Awakening and Other Stories [1]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: 8.2 spoilers, 8.3 Spoilers, 9.0 spoilers, Angst, Edyn’s Should Be Patented Terribly Written Battle Scenes, Enemies to Allies, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, Feelings, Fluff, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, I’d elaborate but spoilers sweetie, Legit it’s Sylvaina there are just some bumps in the road, Referenced Past Relationships, Sexual Content, Shadowlands, Slow Burn, Smut, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Violence, allies to friends, allies to friends to lovers, because of course, jesus where do i start, sylvaina, yes 9.0
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-01 03:41:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 22
Words: 92,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21361528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Edyn04/pseuds/Edele%20Lane
Summary: Sylvanas Windrunner has defeated Varok Saurfang in a Mak’gora and seemingly abandoned her Horde. Jaina Proudmoore and First Arcanist Thalyssra suspect something is amiss and are determined to discover what is truly happening with Sylvanas... at any cost.The story covers my take on 8.3 (Ny’alotha) and 9.0 (Shadowlands), with brief detours before we get to the Sylvaina, and featuring some hopefully enjoyable narrative twists and turns along the way.Annnnnnd the Sylvaina is now in full swing.Tags updated to reflect the story’s content.
Relationships: Jaina Proudmoore/Sylvanas Windrunner, Jaina Proudmoore/Thalyssra, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Nathanos Blightcaller/Sylvanas Windrunner, for the following
Series: Awakening and Other Stories [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1635925
Comments: 214
Kudos: 267





	1. “Shall We?”

**Author's Note:**

> Oh hey!
> 
> Uh, it’s been a while. This is what I’ve been working on and plugging away at for the last month since finishing Trust Me.
> 
> I have a lot of this written already (like seven several-thousand word chapters atm) and I’m already planning a sequel that will basically pick up exactly where this ends up leaving off... when it gets to that point anyway. So yes, I’m back with a new story and I hope you guys enjoy it.
> 
> A note before you start it, yes, this is Sylvaina, and also yes, a bit of Jaina/Thalyssra and a bit of Nathanos/Sylvanas will also be explored, and Kalec shows up briefly (though not in a relationship capacity, don’t freak out) but rest assured, this is Sylvaina through and through.
> 
> There is also going to be some descriptive depictions of violence and some heavy stuff a few chapters in, so I apologize for any discomfort you may end up feeling upon reading. Just fair warning that it’s coming.
> 
> Anyway, hopefully this first chapter is enjoyable and makes you want to read more. Enjoy!
> 
> **Update (11/30/19):** I’m keeping the above note intact, but I’m probably not going to do a sequel as originally planned since this story has now entirely taken on a mind of its own and is progressing in a way that doesn’t require one. There may be cause to do a sequel in the future, but for now, this story is going to be decently long (as it already is) and I think I’ll be able to do everything I’d like within this story. In any case, enjoy!

Jaina Proudmoore pinched the bridge of her nose, frowning in thought. First Arcanist Thalyssra stood next to her, heaving a sigh. They stood shoulder to shoulder with Alliance and Horde leaders alike, discussing Sylvanas Windrunner’s defeat of Varok Saurfang in a Mak’gora utilizing some kind of magic none of them had seen before.

There had been a funeral earlier honoring the fallen warrior. Jaina had departed out of respect for the Horde as they continued to mourn such an honorable figure. The following day, everyone had gathered in Silithus in the Chamber of Heart to discuss the next steps, to figure out what was next. They were joined by Wrathion, the Black Prince, who had officially resurfaced and led to Spiritwalker Ebonhorn being saved. He was currently working with Magni Bronzebeard on a way to turn N’Zoth’s powers against him.

N’Zoth, and how he had resurrected Azshara and spirited her away to Light only knew where, was still at the forefront of everyone’s minds. Sylvanas, however, had thrown a wrench into things, and the focus had shifted. No one knew what Sylvanas had planned, no one could quite make sense of what they had seen at the Mak’gora. She was a threat still, even alone, even after abandoning her people. Perhaps, she was an even greater threat now that she was alone. Perhaps, she had been limited by her allies and was now free to do whatever she wanted, however she wanted.

Jaina looked about the room, briefly glancing at the leaders in attendance, seeing their faces filled with doubt and unease.

“You’re certain you’ve never seen her use anything like what we just saw?” she asked Lor’themar Theron. She had asked him previously and he said he had not, but she hoped against hope that perhaps something might come to him, something in their centuries-long history of serving together, that could give spark some idea about what they had all witnessed.

Sylvanas had, almost effortlessly, brought a revered, powerful warrior to his knees with a few slices of her daggers, leaving some kind of magic in the wounds. She had then followed up those attacks with a strong blast of energy that had ultimately claimed his life. Jaina had not seen that type of magic before and had almost no idea what it could possibly be, but the idea she did have, the tiny thought hidden in the back of her head, frightened her to her very core.

Lor’themar shook his head. “I’m certain, Lord Admiral.” He sighed and looked at Jaina and then at everyone else, a somber look on his face. “I wish I did, I truly wish I could be more useful right now, but I’ve never seen her wield that power before. I’m sorry.”

Thalyssra looked at him kindly. “It’s not your fault, Lord Regent. Somehow, I don’t think this is a power she’s kept hidden.”

Jaina chewed on her lip, worry coursing through her. She had a similar thought. Whatever Sylvanas had used most likely was not a power that she had already possessed. It was far more likely it had been given to her, probably recently. Who could the banshee be working with who would willingly pass on such immense power, and what could they possibly hope to accomplish?

A terrifying thought came to her and sent a strong chill down Jaina’s spine. Could Sylvanas be working with N’Zoth? With Azshara? Did their interests align? Could they all be working together to bring about the destruction of their world?

She ran a hand through her hair, her braid messy and beginning to come undone. She was exhausted from the events of the day and wanted nothing more than to go home to Boralus and curl up in bed, sleeping for hours. It would have to wait, however, as there was still work to be done. They would need to do as much research as they could, with whatever information they could find. She knew where to start.

Dalaran.

“Thalyssra,” she said, turning to the elder mage, “how would you like to accompany me to Dalaran to study and see what we can find?”

“I’d like that,” Thalyssra said with a nod. “With any luck, we’ll find some tomes that can shed light on what we saw today.”

Jaina looked around the room, but ultimately addressed Lor’themar as she began to cast a portal to Dalaran. “You’re welcome to join us,” she said, “another set of eyes is always useful.”

“Thank you for the offer,” Lor’themar said graciously, “but I think I’ll return to Silvermoon and see what I can suss out there. Perhaps, I may be able to find some information that could help.”

“Fair enough,” Jaina replied, as she finished the portal. “Good luck, Lor’themar.”

“Good luck to both of you.” He nodded at everyone and gave the two women a courteous bow that they both returned.

Go’el, Genn Greymane, Baine Bloodhoof, Anduin Wrynn, and Mathias Shaw huddled together to speak, presumably, of thoughts and plans. Wrathion and Magni joined them, all of them giving kind nods to Jaina and Thalyssra, silently wishing them luck in their search. Jaina spied Kalecgos walking over to her and her heart nearly leapt from her chest.

It had been months since they had spoken, since they had shared a kiss and she had left to deal with her personal demons, to try and figure out who she was and what she wanted, alone. She had returned a better person, one who still had worries and doubts, but was able to move beyond them, to focus on what—and whom—she cared about, to begin forging new friendships and repairing old ones, to fight alongside those she had previously, to fight for peace and freedom from the tyranny of old gods, amongst others.

She was in a relatively good place. She was not perfect, nor did she desire to be, but she was doing far better than she had been in recent memory and she had herself to thank for it.

Kalec reached her and ran a hand through his wavy blue hair, a slightly sheepish smile on his lips. Beside her, Jaina heard Thalyssra pointedly clear her throat and then step away, leaving them alone. Jaina looked up into Kalec’s eyes, returning his smile. She felt just a bit nervous around him, but she realized it was only because it had been so long since they had spoken. She had no interest in rekindling their relationship, but she still valued him as a person and a friend, and she finally calmed in his presence.

“Long time, no see,” he said, his smile growing.

Jaina felt her own smile widen. “Indeed,” she said. “How have you been?”

He gave a slight shrug of his shoulders, saying, “I’ve been all right. How about yourself?”

“I’m doing well,” she replied, “I’m not quite exactly where I’d truly like to be just yet, but... I’m definitely in a better place than I have been.”

Jaina noted that he seemed to brighten considerably at that and she felt even better. Whatever they had previously may have been over, but she could absolutely appreciate how genuinely he still cared for her.

“I couldn’t be happier for you, Jaina. I hope that, maybe once all this is over, we could maybe chat over coffee, catch up.” Still smiling, he added, “As friends.”

Jaina stepped forward and hugged him. His arms went around her, gently patting her back. “I’d like that very much,” she whispered against his shoulder. When they separated, he bowed deeply and she returned it.

“It’s a plan,” he said, and he turned to join the group of leaders in their continuing discussion.

Jaina wandered over to Thalyssra, leaning against a wall, seemingly staring rather intently at a spot on the floor. When Jaina approached, Thalyssra looked up at her with kind eyes that Jaina thought looked a bit curious.

“Everything all right there?” Thalyssra asked, nodding in Kalec’s direction.

“It is,” Jaina said. Tilting her head, she murmured, “And, for what it’s worth, I appreciate your concern.”

Thalyssra patted her arm. “With everything going on, the last thing any of us needs is unnecessary stress.”

Jaina gave her a solemn nod. More stress was definitely not what she wanted or needed, and Jaina was relieved to have avoided any with Kalec. Brightening, she gestured to her portal and asked, “Shall we?”

“We shall.”

Thalyssra stepped through the portal as Jaina motioned for her to enter first. Jaina gave a last nod to the group and headed inside. They emerged in a massive library in Dalaran with shelves upon shelves of books and rows of tables and chairs for students to sit down at and study. There were candles all around the room on walls and tables and the smooth scent of leather and paper filled the air, giving the library a cozy feel. Jaina would have normally felt relaxed here, eager to study and learn, as if she were still a student. But tonight, she felt restless and irritated. She wanted answers and she wanted them quickly.

There was no way of knowing what the banshee had planned, what she might do now that she had seemingly abandoned all of the Horde, even her Forsaken. What would she do now, her only known allies being Nathanos Blightcaller and perhaps some loyalists who still believed in her?

And what of any rumored allies, like N’Zoth or Azshara?

Jaina was faintly aware that she had begun shaking, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Thalyssra grasped one of her hands and she nearly pulled away before realizing she had started to calm in the elder mage’s presence. She turned towards her, taking a slow, steady breath, as Thalyssra gave her a kind, understanding smile and squeezed her hand.

Jaina was grateful that the Alliance and the Horde finally saw eye to eye on an issue and were working together instead of fighting each other. It meant that she was able to forge at least a temporary allegiance with the other faction, perhaps even some lasting friendships that went beyond party lines. These days, friends were in short supply for Jaina. The woman who was probably her closest friend was also the younger sister of the very woman about whom Jaina sought answers and information.

Vereesa was clearly still fond of Sylvanas, though Alleria certainly did not seem to share the sentiment. Having Vereesa so attached to the banshee was going to present issues, Jaina knew. It would absolutely complicate matters and Jaina wondered how Vereesa would act if Sylvanas was found entirely unredeemable and would either be killed or forever locked up.

She sighed deeply, forcing her thoughts back to Thalyssra. The woman was still standing next to her, though she had dropped her hand and was gazing in awe at the myriad of tomes in the library. Jaina allowed herself a slight smile at the look of wonder on the nightborne’s face. She calmed further, relieved to be in the presence of someone she could nearly call a friend for all they had been through together.

The situation was tenuous and, as always, the peace between the Alliance and Horde may not last even after the Warchief had been dealt with and their lives eventually returned to normal. But she liked this woman, this powerful and intelligent and kind person with whom she worked well and enjoyed talking.

“Shall we?” Jaina asked once more, gesturing grandly towards the tables in front of them. She was still smiling a bit.

Thalyssra turned to her and chuckled. “We shall.”

***

Hours later, Jaina was feeling tense and uneasy again, taking notes and roughly flipping through texts and casting aside any that did not have pertinent information. She slammed one shut and shoved it away from her across the wooden table, gasping softly when Thalyssra, sitting across from her, extended a quick hand and caught the book before it could hit the floor.

“Sorry...” Jaina mumbled, her face flushing with embarrassment.

Thalyssra set the book down safely on the table, lightly patting the cover. She looked at Jaina with an amused expression and noted, “We’ve been reading for hours, Lord Admiral.”

Jaina winced at being addressed by her title. She saw Thalyssra as, at least, a friendly acquaintance, but she wondered how the nightborne saw her. She pulled another book close to her and opened it, tired eyes beginning to scan the contents. She flicked her gaze up, finding Thalyssra still looking at her, her eyes patient and soft.

“I think we should eat something,” the elder mage suggested.

Jaina softened and felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth. “I think that’s a good idea.”

She was about to conjure some cakes when Thalyssra stood. “Stay here, I’ll be back shortly.”

Jaina nodded and began perusing the book in front of her again, when a swift hand reached out and snatched it away. Jaina looked up, her eyebrows raised. Thalyssra pointedly closed the book and left it on the table just out of reach of Jaina’s hands. She felt slightly scolded and she bit her lip, dropping her gaze.

“Take a break,” Thalyssra told her, not unkindly. “Stretch your legs and walk around.” She chuckled and Jaina looked up once more. “I don’t want to see you reading when I get back, Jaina.”

At the sound of her name, Jaina smiled softly, a pleasant warmth flowing through her. “I won’t read, Thalyssra, I promise,” Jaina said, standing as well. She made a show of stretching her arms, then began to walk away from the table to convey that she was serious.

Seemingly satisfied, the elder mage nodded and teleported away. Jaina automatically reached for the book Thalyssra had taken from her, before letting out a resigned sigh and dropping her hand. She wandered around the library instead, looking at paintings of important figures, some living, some dead. Her eyes fell upon one of Antonidas and her mood turned somber and reflective. Next to his portrait was one of Rhonin, and Jaina began thinking about Vereesa again.

The woman had been through so much with losing her husband and raising not only her own boys, but Alleria’s son as well. Beyond that, the sister she cherished was a war criminal and possibly one of the most dangerous people that Azeroth had ever known.

Jaina once again found herself worrying what would happen once Sylvanas was confronted, once the banshee hopefully revealed what was happening, what she was planning. Jaina would be there for Vereesa as much as she could, but she could not guarantee the safety of Sylvanas. She reached up a hand, fingers brushing the frame of Rhonin’s portrait. A wave of guilt washed over her then, as her thoughts turned to Theramore, when Rhonin had selflessly forced her through a portal to safety.

She swallowed the emotion rising in her throat and quickly pulled back her hand, tucking the blonde lock that stubbornly did not fit in her braid behind her ear. She inhaled sharply, a sob slipping from her lips. When she had escaped Thros and returned home, she had told her mother that her feelings of doubt and guilt over several key events in her life still lingered, but that she had buried them as best she could. She wanted to move on, she truly did, but the feeling that she had let so many people down over the years still plagued her and she was uncertain how to ultimately move past everything, how to be normal again.

_Normal_.

What did “normal” even mean anymore?

She did not have time to ponder the question because the distinct sound of Thalyssra teleporting back into the room filled her ears and disrupted her thoughts. She noted with a curse under her breath that she had tears in her eyes and she reached up a hand to wipe them away on her sleeve. She cleared her throat in an attempt to compose herself, then turned to face the elder mage with a tremulous smile.

Thalyssra seemed to notice immediately that something was off, because her expression went from bright and sunny to concerned and somber. “Everything all right?”

Jaina licked her lips and nodded, murmuring thickly, “Everything’s fine, there are just... a lot of memories here.”

“I understand,” replied the elder mage. “We can talk while we eat—“ At Jaina’s tense expression, she mumbled, “Or not...”

Jaina felt her disposition improve, felt warmth in her face as she responded, “I’d like that, actually.”

“Good,” Thalyssra said warmly, fixing her with a smile, “come eat.”

She motioned Jaina over and the younger mage sat down. There were two covered plates, two glasses, and a bottle of wine that Jaina imagined was a lovely vintage from one of Suramar’s vineyards. She uncovered her plate to find a delectable-looking pairing of steak and fish, along with rice and fresh vegetables. She brightened further, realizing she was famished, and picked up a fork and knife, digging in as Thalyssra poured the wine.

“Where did you get all this?” Jaina asked.

“There are a number of great restaurants in Suramar,” she said, “and I know the chef of one of them personally, so she whipped this up for us.”

“It’s amazing,” Jaina breathed.

They ate for a while in a companionable silence, the only sounds those of utensils clinking and glasses being lifted and set down. Jaina had a mouthful of steak and rice when Thalyssra spoke, her tone serious. “There’s something I need to ask you, Jaina,” she began, “and it’s _very_ important.”

Gulping down the food in her mouth, Jaina looked up and asked with trepidation, “What’s that?”

Her tone and expression still serious, Thalyssra asked, “Did you read while I was gone?”

A slow grin began to spread over the elder mage’s face and Jaina ducked her head, warmth spreading over her once more. She shook her head, smiling, and the pair continued to enjoy their brief respite from the rest of the world.

***

“How’s it been,” Thalyssra began, “having your brother back?” Jaina stiffened slightly and Thalyssra shrank back, taking a long sip of her wine. “I apologize if the question is too intrusive...”

“No,” Jaina said, waving a dismissive hand, “it’s been amazing having him back, but...” She looked down, frowning.

“‘But’...?”

“I guess I’m just nervous. Sylvanas put him through a great deal of attempted conditioning and so far, nothing’s come of it.” She sighed gently, looking back up at Thalyssra, finding the elder mage with an interested and concerned expression. “He and Calia Menethil have become close, she’s been helping him with his rehabilitation.”

“And it’s going well?” Thalyssra inquired gently.

Jaina nodded, but she had set down her fork with trembling fingers. “It is, I just wonder if the conditioning was so thorough and deep that it could still present itself later.”

Thalyssra reached across the table and briefly patted Jaina’s hand, calming her. “You know him well,” Thalyssra said. “If anything changes, you’ll see it.”

“I suppose so,” Jaina agreed, her voice quiet and sounding a bit unsure. She took a long drink of wine, draining her glass and setting it down, fingers absently brushing the stem. Thalyssra picked up the bottle, refilling her glass, and Jaina nodded her thanks, taking another long drink. She was beginning to feel a bit dizzy, but she welcomed the feeling, as with it came a fair amount of relaxation and ease of mind. She picked up her fork with fingers that had steadied and resumed eating.

Across the table, Thalyssra was eating again as well, but Jaina could feel the elder mage’s still worried gaze on her and it warmed her considerably. Even though it was just friendly concern, it made Jaina feel better. She bit her lip then, a question running through her head.

“Thalyssra?” she asked softly, feeling a bit apprehensive as she spoke.

“Yes?” The elder mage gave her a sweet, reassuring smile and Jaina felt her own lips turn up in a smile as well.

“I know that this... tentative peace... between the Alliance and Horde is likely temporary, but I hope that despite whatever ends up happening that... ah... you and I could, perhaps, stay friends?” She felt silly and embarrassed, but the wine had made her feel more bold than she might have been otherwise, and she figured now was a good a time as any to address the future regarding their respective factions.

Thalyssra softened further, her features warm and open. “Of course.”

Jaina felt her anxiousness fade, replaced with relief and she smiled. “I’m glad to hear you say that.”

Chuckling, Thalyssra leaned forward and raised an eyebrow as she said, “Besides, I don’t think you and I are the types of people to let a little thing like war come between friends.”

Jaina felt a pang of guilt and unease in her chest and she looked down, her thoughts filled with the tragedy at Theramore and the resulting loss of her friendships within the Horde as a result. She heard Thalyssra gasp and she swallowed hard against the sob in her throat.

“I’m sorry,” Thalyssra said quickly, “I didn’t mean to—“

“It’s fine,” Jaina said firmly. A mask of pride to hide her pain was now etched across her face. “I need to be stronger,” she said.

“You seem plenty strong to me,” Thalyssra told her, “from what I’ve seen of you when we’ve worked together.”

Jaina licked her lips and whispered, “Sometimes, it feels like it’s all for show.”

Thalyssra’s eyes widened just a bit. “How so?” she asked curiously.

“I... keep a fair amount hidden,” Jaina admitted. “There are things I wish I could move past, things that have made me who I am, for better or worse.” Her voice was quiet and introspective and she looked down, feeling shaky.

“If you want to share,” Thalyssra began kindly, “I’m here.”

Jaina looked back up, tears in the corners of her eyes. Her voice thick, she said, “I appreciate that. Thank you.” As the elder mage nodded, Jaina added quickly, “The same goes for me, if you want to talk.”

Thalyssra smiled and sipped her wine. “Thank you. I may take you up on that, but first, I’d like to know more about what makes you who you are, if you’re up for it.”

Jaina finished her second glass of wine and smiled a bit sheepishly. “What would you like to know?”

***

A while later, Jaina had shared the details of her time in Thros, the repeated nightmares that she had while she was there, nightmares that still plagued her some nights. She would wake up in a cold sweat, her heart pounding in her chest, her shoulders shaking with her sobs. She had not shared these things with anyone, she had only told her mother that she was compartmentalizing as best she could, but she did not worry Katherine with details. Her guilt ran deep enough as it was, she did not need to further add to it.

Sharing her experience with Thalyssra, watching how interested she was in hearing what she had to say, filled Jaina with something she could not accurately describe. It felt like relief, it felt like happiness, it felt like having a true friend who was concerned for her well-being and eager to help in any way possible. She hoped Thalyssra would open up to her as well, not wanting the experience to be one-sided. She wanted to know more about her new friend, wanted to talk to her about what made Thalyssra who she was.

“I’m sorry you went through what you did,” Thalyssra said gently, reaching across the table. Jaina shivered at Thalyssra’s hand on hers, swallowing hard. The touch was kind and friendly, but it felt electric, and Jaina wondered if the wine was making her feel things that weren’t actually there.

“What about you?” she asked then, Thalyssra’s hand still on hers. “What makes you... you?”

Thalyssra gave her a lopsided smile and patted her hand before picking up her own glass and leaning back comfortably in her seat. Jaina felt suddenly bereft as she looked between her own hand and Thalyssra’s and she bit her lip, unsure what to make of things. She listened intently as Thalyssra described working with and then against Grand Magistrix Elisande, the betrayal she experienced by Advisor Melandrus stabbing her in the back, her journey of becoming nightfallen and eventually healing, working with the Horde—and, to a lesser extent, the Alliance—to repel the Legion from Suramar, and ultimately saving her city from certain doom.

Jaina was rapt throughout, though she began to feel guilty about her own experiences when it seemed that Thalyssra had been through far more, and had emerged a stronger person, one who was seemingly unaffected by the kinds of demons that Jaina found herself dealing with on a daily basis. She began to feel a bit sick, looking down as Thalyssra reached for her hand again, sending waves of warmth and electricity through her body, soothing her.

“You went through so much...” Jaina whispered, her voice strained.

“We both did,” Thalyssra said, her voice firm, but not unkind.

The elder mage seemed to sense that Jaina felt guilty after sharing her story and then listening to Thalyssra’s, as if her story was somehow less important. She rubbed Jaina’s hand, a gentle sigh on her lips as Jaina began to relax.

“And you know what?”

Jaina looked up into radiant violet eyes, softening at the smile that tugged at the corners of Thalyssra’s mouth. “What?” she asked, a small smile playing on her own lips.

“We’re stronger for it.”

It was true, Jaina knew. Thalyssra’s smile deepened and so did Jaina’s. The elder mage’s hand was still on hers, fingers absently tracing patterns over her skin. She felt so relaxed in this woman’s presence, felt like she could be herself and let her walls come down, walls that she had carefully constructed to keep herself safe and to keep others safe from the anger and guilt she felt on a regular basis. With Thalyssra, she did not need them, and she was more grateful to this woman than she could ever possibly convey.

“So, shall we continue our research?” Thalyssra asked after a few more moments, pulling back and patting the book that she had humorously swiped from Jaina earlier.

“We shall,” Jaina replied, accepting the tome when Thalyssra offered it to her. She pushed aside her plate and opened the book, beginning to read. She looked up after a moment, seeing Thalyssra with her own nose buried in a book and suddenly a thought came to her. “I... have a question, about Sylvanas and you. Well, your nightborne.”

Thalyssra peered at her through curious and slightly confused eyes. “I’ll try to answer if I can.”

“You allied with the Horde despite you and your people’s connections to the Kaldorei,” Jaina began and she saw Thalyssra swallow and stiffen a bit. “I... guess I’m just wondering what made you choose the Horde over the Alliance.”

Thalyssra poured herself another glass of wine, setting down the bottle and tapping her fingers rhythmically on the book she had been reading before she left to fetch their dinner. Jaina opened her mouth and then closed it, ready to offer an apology, just as Thalyssra began speaking.

“I felt as though my people would be able to continue to exist as we always have, without needing to conform to any norms, that we could be who we wanted to be, without needing to change to fit in.” Jaina nodded her understanding and Thalyssra continued, “Tyrande... despite her and her people’s help in liberating Suramar... did not entirely trust me and that was something I could not move past. She had her reasons, I know, she saw what became of Azshara and Elisande, but that Liadrin had faith in me and Tyrande did not... that made my choice easy.”

“Your reasoning makes sense,” Jaina said, “but with all that’s happened now, do you regret your decision?” She almost did not ask the question, but she and Thalyssra had shared so much already that she felt relatively at ease asking this one. The wine she had was still providing her with a little extra courage as well.

“No,” Thalyssra said confidently. “Sylvanas was a leader I could believe in, and she may still be. She seems decidedly different now than she was then. Something’s changed her, I think, maybe corrupted her.”

Jaina’s eyes widened and she leaned forward, elbows on the table and her hands flexed under her chin. “Do you think... N’Zoth is corrupting her somehow?”

“I feel it’s likely and probably why we haven’t found much in our research. We don’t know a great deal about him, about how he operates, about what his plans are, or what he wants. The dagger the Horde champions gave to Sylvanas, that she gave to Nathanos, it’s important, I think.”

Jaina nodded. She knew of the dagger and its previous power and she found herself wondering if it still held any such power, if it perhaps held the key to destroying N’Zoth.

“Wrathion’s connection is important as well. His assistance with a concoction to help fight old god corruption may mean he’ll be able to help on a grander scale.”

Things were getting interesting, Jaina thought. The dagger and Wrathion, still brainstorming with Magni and multiple leaders in the Chamber of Heart, could be what and who they needed to ultimately face N’Zoth and end his schemes. But where did Sylvanas fit in with all this? Did she fit in at all? Did she have her own plan? Or, was she working with N’Zoth to help him achieve what he wanted? And if she was, how did it benefit her? She had seemingly abandoned everyone after the Mak’gora, striking out on her own. Nathanos and a small number of remaining loyalists would be by her side, but would anyone else? Could anyone else truly believe in her still?

Thalyssra had said she did not regret joining the Horde, that she believed something was affecting Sylvanas. If that was true, how deep did it go? Was the Sylvanas they had seen who killed Calia, who made the decision to burn Teldrassil, who blighted Lordaeron... even the same Sylvanas who once led her people, in life and death, with her head held high, beloved and respected by many?

Jaina did not know, but she suspected Thalyssra may be right. If that was the case, then perhaps they could help, perhaps they could set things right. She did not know Sylvanas well, but she knew who did...

Alleria and Vereesa Windrunner.

The answer was so simple. They had been researching so much when at least part of the answer had been in front of their noses the whole time. The more they could learn about Sylvanas the better, perhaps even—

“I know who can help,” Jaina burst out. Thalyssra just looked at her. “Her sisters.” Thalyssra’s mouth dropped open in recognition. “They may even have some clue of where she could have gone, and maybe we can find her, talk to her.”

“You’re right, of course you’re right,” Thalyssra said excitedly, standing from the table. Jaina felt a grin on her lips. “We’ll go at once.”

Jaina nodded. “They’re probably back in Stormwind by now. I’ll make us a portal.” With that, she turned from the table and reached out in front of her, summoning arcane magic to conjure a portal to Stormwind’s throne room. “Shall we?” she asked with a smirk.

Thalyssra returned the smirk. “Oh yes, we shall.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve mainly been writing this story out of order and it’s been fun, but it also means the editing process is a bit more difficult because I need to make sure everything works how it should and makes sense and all that good stuff.
> 
> I hope to have another chapter soon. Thanks for clicking.


	2. “I Am Who I Am”

They emerged through the portal to find Anduin Wrynn, Genn Greymane, and Mathias Shaw speaking with Alleria and Vereesa. They stayed silent, unnoticed, for the moment, and listened.

“Is there anything you can share about Sylvanas that may help us? Anything at all?” Jaina saw that Anduin was looking almost desperately between the sisters.

Alleria huffed and Vereesa clung to her arm, leaning against her, attempting to calm the woman. “Doubtful,” Alleria nearly snapped, “what could we _possibly_ know about her that would help here? She’s not our sister. Not anymore.”

“Alleria...” Vereesa said pleadingly.

“What?”

“Don’t talk like that, there’s always a chance that—“

“That what?” Alleria demanded. “That she isn’t as clearly evil as she seems? That she’s somehow doing all of this for the greater good? That she’s actually trying to save us all?”

Vereesa shrank back and looked away. Alleria frowned, appearing to soften at her sister’s expression. She peered into Vereesa’s eyes, tucking back a wayward lock of her sister’s silver hair.

“I know you love her. I... used to. But look at what she’s done. Look at how she acted at the Spire when we went to clear it out. She’s changed, Vereesa.”

Jaina stiffened slightly as Thalyssra took a breath. Sylvanas _had_ changed, Alleria was even acknowledging what Thalyssra had noticed. The present Windrunner sisters knew Sylvanas better than anyone. If they believed she changed, it was likely true. Several questions remained, though, of if someone had changed her and why, as well as if the true Sylvanas could ever be found, deep under the surface.

Anduin looked in their direction, a startled gasp on his lips. “Jaina... First Arcanist...”

Alleria and Vereesa turned as well and Vereesa’s face lit up as she flew to Jaina and flung herself into the mage’s arms. Jaina closed her eyes, sighing as she embraced her friend. Next to her, Thalyssra patted her shoulder, then addressed Anduin.

“Jaina had a thought and I agreed with it. We came to see if Alleria and Vereesa might have anything to share.” She chuckled lightly. “It seems as though you all thought the same.”

“Indeed,” Alleria almost growled. “We’ve not had meaningful contact with our sister in some time, aside from when we cleared out our old home, but we’re apparently expected to know _everything_ about what she’s been up to.”

Vereesa finally pulled back from Jaina, giving the mage a small, grateful smile that Jaina instantly returned. The ranger’s glowing eyes were bright with shining tears that slipped onto her cheeks and Jaina reached up a gentle hand, wiping them away with her thumb. With a nod of thanks, Vereesa walked back to her sister, linking her arm with Alleria’s in another apparent attempt to calm her.

“Alleria, we’ve known her for centuries,” she began reasonably, “we’re absolutely the best sources of information, however small or unimportant we may think our knowledge of her is.”

Jaina watched as Alleria seemed to give her sister’s words consideration. The eldest Windrunner sister threw up her hands, exhaling an exasperated sigh, and mumbled something in Thalassian that Jaina could not make out. Vereesa was now smiling, though, so she figured Alleria must have decided to give in and help.

“I think the most important thing right now is figuring out where she could have gone,” said Jaina. “If we could speak with her, then maybe—“

Alleria scoffed loudly. “She has said nothing to anyone for _months_, except perhaps to her pet Nathanos. What makes you think we—“

“Sylvanas has always been sentimental,” Vereesa said quietly and Jaina turned to her, as did everyone else. “It might be a long shot, since she may suspect people would look for her there, but I think she may have gone home, to Windrunner Spire.”

Alleria slowly nodded her apparent agreement. “It’s likely. It isn’t exactly a fortress, but... perhaps she feels safe there.”

Vereesa breathed deeply. “She probably doesn’t think anyone would go looking for her there, as it’s too obvious a choice. Or... maybe she actually wants to be found.”

“She’s an idiot if she wants to be found, after all that she’s done,” Alleria spat, “after all the atrocities she’s committed.”

Alleria was shaking, her voice a low growl in her throat. Vereesa’s arm was still linked with hers and Jaina noted that the eldest Windrunner seemed to calm when Vereesa gave her arm a squeeze. Jaina recalled earlier when Thalyssra had comforted her by being near and squeezing her hand. Having a friend who could calm someone down with their presence and gentleness was rare and Jaina counted herself lucky that she knew two women who excelled at it.

Jaina glanced at Alleria, taking in the ranger’s expression and body language. The woman may have seemed to calm a bit, but Jaina could see that she was still tense, still troubled by Sylvanas’ actions. She felt for Alleria, she knew that the eldest Windrunner was fighting her own demons along with fighting to keep her family safe. She had her husband, son, little sister, and two nephews that Jaina knew she felt obligated to protect from any threat, including her undead sister.

Likewise, she knew Vereesa wanted to keep her family safe, but that she did not want to give up on Sylvanas, did not want to believe that her sister was beyond saving, beyond redemption. Jaina looked between the two of them, looked at how Vereesa still clung to Alleria for seemingly not only her sister’s benefit, but also her own. Jaina inhaled sharply, feeling the utmost sympathy for the Windrunner sisters before her... and even the one on the run.

Next to her, she felt Thalyssra pat her arm and, out of the corner of her eye, saw the elder mage regard her with kindness and concern. She was nearly overcome, so grateful was she that this new friend of hers truly cared about her well-being. She let the barest hint of a smile grace her lips, feeling pleasantly warm when she saw Thalyssra return it. After a moment, she sobered and turned her attention back to everyone else. Thalyssra slowly drew back her hand and folded her arms casually behind her back.

“We’ll head to the Spire,” Jaina said. “If you two want to come with—“

“No,” Alleria said firmly, fixing Jaina with an icy stare. “I have no desire to see her. It sounds as though the two of you wish to have a civil discussion with her, if that’s even possible. I couldn’t force myself to be civil around her.”

Jaina exchanged a nervous glance with Thalyssra, then looked at Vereesa. The ranger was chewing on her lip, still holding tightly to her sister’s arm. Jaina could tell she was conflicted about the situation. Naturally, she wanted to stand with Alleria, but Jaina knew she would give anything to have the sister she loved back in her life.

Their eyes met and Jaina gave her a kind look, asking a silent question. Vereesa, hurt all over her features, gave a subtle shake of her head and Jaina nodded.

“Here,” said Alleria, casting a void portal. “This will put you near the Spire, allowing you some space to make a covert approach if necessary.”

“Thank you, Alleria,” Jaina said, placing a hand on her shoulder, “sincerely.”

Alleria only pursed her lips and cast another portal. “I’m going home. I suggest you do the same, Little Moon.”

Vereesa kissed her sister’s cheek and Alleria closed her eyes, her expression softening just a little. When she opened them again, she seemed serious and steadfast. She nodded at everyone in the room and stepped through her portal. Vereesa moved to Jaina again and flung her arms around her neck. Jaina held her, closing her eyes and letting out a soft sigh.

“Don’t hurt her,” Vereesa whimpered, and Jaina stiffened in her arms.

“I can’t promise that,” Jaina murmured back, her voice tinged with sadness. “I want to, but I can’t.” She hugged Vereesa tighter when she felt the ranger slump against her.

Thalyssra, apparently having overheard, said gently, “We’ll investigate and find as much information as we can.” She paused, then continued, “We’ll make the best decision based on what we discover.”

Jaina pulled back and nodded, taking Vereesa’s hands in hers. “We all just want to know what’s been going on with Sylvanas, why she’s done everything she’s done, why she abandoned the Horde. I just hope we can get some answers.”

Vereesa’s hands shook, even as Jaina held them. “I need to get back to the boys,” she said quietly.

Jaina smiled a bit, thinking of Giramar and Galadin. It had been a while since she had seen either of them and she felt guilty for having neglected her friend as of late. She would do better, she decided, once this business with Sylvanas was all over. She wished and hoped there would be a happy ending, but she worried that Sylvanas may actually be acting on her own, that maybe what she, Thalyssra, and Vereesa perceived as something out of the ordinary was actually who Sylvanas truly was.

Vereesa looked down and Jaina felt her heart hurt. She gave the ranger’s hands a gentle squeeze and kissed her forehead, prompting a soft hum of content from her friend. She smiled again as Vereesa looked back up, meeting her gaze and smiling as well. They dropped one another’s hands and Jaina cast a portal for Vereesa. Glancing and nodding at everyone, Vereesa stepped through Jaina’s portal.

Jaina let out the breath she did not realize she had been holding as Thalyssra stepped close to her, their shoulders touching. Jaina felt herself relax just a little and she once again felt grateful for the elder mage’s presence. She looked towards Anduin, Genn, and Mathias, realizing she had been so engrossed in the conversation with the Windrunner sisters that she had nearly forgotten they were there.

“If we’re all ready,” Anduin began, “we can head out.”

Jaina and Thalyssra exchanged looks, then turned back to Anduin.

“We... were not planning on going with anyone else,” Jaina said gently, giving him a kind tilt of her head.

Anduin frowned. “You’re going to need back-up, Jaina,” he insisted, “you don’t know what you’ll be walking into when you get there.”

“We can take care of ourselves,” Thalyssra said, not unkindly.

“The King is right,” said Genn, his voice harsh, “you two could be walking directly into a trap. This is probably exactly what that monster wants.”

Anduin reached up a hand to pat Genn’s shoulder. Jaina, her hackles raised at Genn’s words, calmed at Anduin’s reaction and at Thalyssra’s hand, fingertips brushing her palm. She looked at Mathias, finding him with an uncertain expression, and she imagined he wanted to at least scout the area, or remain hidden in the shadows and provide support if necessary.

“We’ll be fine,” Jaina assured the three men. “If Sylvanas wanted us dead, she could have done it at the Mak’gora. She clearly possesses the ability to destroy all of us. If she wanted us dead, she would have just done it then.”

Anduin gave Jaina a look that seemed worried and uncertain. “Auntie...”

Jaina stepped forward and placed her hands on his shoulders, looking into his eyes. “We’ll be fine, Anduin.” She smiled and patted his arms. “We wouldn’t be walking into this if we didn’t think we could handle it.”

Anduin nodded and pulled her into an embrace. “Be safe.”

“We will.” Jaina stepped back and turned to Thalyssra. “Shall we?” She tried to keep her tone light, but she was still nervous, despite what she had told Anduin.

Thalyssra seemed nervous as well, shifting her weight briefly from one foot to the other before nodding and saying, “We shall.”

Together, they stepped through Alleria’s portal, emerging a fair distance from the Spire. It stood tall and proud, beautifully elven in its architecture. Jaina stared up at it, pulling the hood of her cloak up over her head. It was breathtakingly lovely to look at and she gasped softly, thinking of the centuries the Windrunners had spent in the Spire: the sisters growing up together, close friends, their lives seemingly perfect, at least for a while.

There was not a soul nearby, not even lookouts. Perhaps, they were inside, ready to strike if any threats showed themselves. Jaina doubted it. Even if something more was going on, Sylvanas’ declaration that the Horde was nothing seemed to shock even her most loyal of followers at the Mak’gora. Nathanos would remain in her service, for sure, Jaina knew that. He would not abandon his queen for anything or anyone. Loyal to a fault, Jaina imagined, but she felt a brief pang of envy in her chest. To have someone so completely certain about her actions, about who she was as a person, to follow her through the fire, it must feel rather incredible.

She began to feel more sure that something was amiss with Sylvanas, that there was an outside force at play. She turned to Thalyssra, finding her with a somber expression. She nudged the elder mage’s shoulder and began walking forward, towards the Spire. She had not planned what to say and she hoped it would work out. She intended to speak from the heart, rather than try and memorize a speech. If something was going on, she figured the best way to discover it was to be honest and lay bare any and all emotions.

They reached the Spire’s steps, walking up to a platform overlooking the forest. Jaina’s heart leapt into her throat. The banshee was there, cutting an imposing figure, her back to them, her hands gripping the low balcony wall. Her ears were pinned back against her head in what Jaina perceived to be annoyance. She did not turn to look at them, though the slight roll of her shoulders and the deep sigh that carried through the air told Jaina that Sylvanas knew she was not alone.

Jaina looked at Thalyssra, seeing hurt on her face. Jaina knew how difficult this must be, to see someone Thalyssra had respected enough to join forces with seemingly throwing all of her allies away. She had the utmost respect for this woman to face the leader who had abandoned her people, who had left everyone with a horrible statement of hate.

Thalyssra took a step forward, then another and another, until she was standing next to Sylvanas, her own hands now gripping the balcony wall. Jaina stayed back, opting to let the two Horde leaders have some time to talk. She leaned comfortably against the cool stone of the Spire, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Sylvanas.”

The woman in question did not turn at Thalyssra’s voice, but she still spoke, her tone sounding indifferent. “Yes?”

Jaina watched as Thalyssra bristled, but still kept her composure. “I don’t believe that you abandoned the Horde.”

“You saw it happen,” Sylvanas said calmly. “You have no reason not to believe it.”

“Why would you do it? What reason could you possibly have? What do you _gain_ from this?”

Jaina watched as Thalyssra’s shoulders stiffened, taut with her frustration. Her composure was slipping and Jaina began to grow nervous. If their conversation turned less than civil, they may both be in for a fight with an incredibly powerful banshee.

“I don’t need anyone,” Sylvanas said, her voice firm. Jaina nearly gasped. There was something about the way Sylvanas was speaking that made her think they had to be correct about there being an outside force. Sylvanas spoke almost in a monotone, there was no sarcasm in her voice, none of the big Sylvanas personality to which they were accustomed.

Something was wrong. They just needed to figure out what.

“You weren’t like this when my nightfallen joined the Horde, Sylvanas,” Thalyssra said, peering at Sylvanas’ profile. “Something changed.”

“I was always like this.”

“No, you weren’t,” Jaina finally spoke up. She saw Sylvanas’ posture change, watched tension knit itself into her shoulders, heard a huff escape her lips. Then, it was gone, and she was stoic and stiff again.

“You don’t know me.”

Jaina pursed her lips and walked up to Sylvanas, standing on her left side. “This isn’t you.”

Sylvanas turned to face her then and there was something in her glowing red eyes that sent a strong chill down Jaina’s spine. It was something entirely unspoken, but there was something there that caught Jaina off-guard. As before, it was gone quickly and Jaina was left wishing for more, wishing for Sylvanas to reveal something, _anything_, that could help.

“You haven’t killed us,” Jaina said quietly, “you haven’t even _tried_. I can only assume that means you don’t want us dead, that our deaths, or the deaths of the Horde, aren’t what you want.”

Sylvanas was staring straight ahead, Jaina carefully studying her profile and expression and body language. The banshee was gripping the railing tightly, her gloved hands shaking. She wanted to tell them something, Jaina realized, but what? And why was she refraining from doing so?

“I believe you two have overstayed your welcome.” Sylvanas’ voice had a finality to it that sent a shiver down Jaina’s spine.

Thalyssra heaved a sigh and turned away, walking down the steps. Jaina remained where she was, carefully eyeing Sylvanas’ profile, looking for cracks in her icy exterior. There was _something_, there had to be. She would not, could not go back to Vereesa without something concrete. She gripped the balcony wall hard, a huff of exasperation on her lips. Sylvanas turned to her then, just for a moment, then looked away.

“Talk to me,” Jaina pleaded.

“There’s nothing to say.”

“There is. There _has_ to be!” Frustration and sorrow tinged her voice and she struggled to keep any semblance of composure.

“I am who I am. No more, no less.”

Jaina scoffed and turned away. She bitterly taunted Sylvanas, saying, “Vereesa will be so disappointed to learn that—“

Sylvanas whirled on her, gripping her arm hard. She leaned close, whispering in Jaina’s ear, “Take care of my sister, Proudmoore.”

Jaina turned, locking eyes with Sylvanas, finding fear and an earnest, pleading look in them. Sylvanas was still holding tightly to her arm, still looking into her eyes, and Jaina could only nod dumbly as Sylvanas finally let her go, sweeping into the Spire and slamming the door so hard that Jaina jumped.

She turned to Thalyssra, finding a shocked look on the elder mage’s face. She slowly descended the stairs and Thalyssra reached out her arms as Jaina stepped into them.

“I want to go home,” Jaina whispered. “I need to process this before we go back to Vereesa and Alleria.”

“I feel the same,” Thalyssra said. “How about we meet tomorrow evening to talk before we share what we’ve learned? We can have a drink and hopefully relax before we meet with everyone.”

“I’d like that,” Jaina said. “Meet you in Dalaran?”

Thalyssra nodded. “Take care, Jaina.”

“You too.”

Jaina teleported away, landing in her room in Proudmoore Keep. She unraveled her braid, running both hands through her hair, sighing heavily. She pulled a nightgown from a bureau, then went to the bathroom in her room, waving a hand to start the water for a bath. She undressed, then leaned on the counter, looking at herself in the mirror. Her face was slightly creased with worry lines and there were dark circles under her eyes. She splashed her face with cold water and she felt a bit better.

She shook her head, feeling utterly exhausted. So much had happened in a short span of time. She waved a hand to turn off the water and climbed in, leaning back against the wall. Her thoughts were all over the place, Thalyssra, Alleria, Vereesa, Saurfang, Sylvanas...

She tried to make sense of everything, but it was difficult. Instead, she forced all thoughts out of her mind and focused on the warmth of the water, letting her tense, sore muscles relax. She washed up slowly, sighing as she finally set down her sponge. She washed and rinsed her hair, then soaked for a few more minutes before reluctantly standing and draining the water. She dried off and slipped into her nightgown, pulling on her robe as well.

She left the bathroom and began pacing her room. She felt trapped, her mind swimming in thoughts again, thoughts that she wanted to put off until the next day. She put on a pair of slippers and left her room, wandering down the long hallway towards the stairs. She passed her brother’s room and she bit her lip, thinking about what she had told Thalyssra, how she was happy to have Derek back, but that she feared his conditioning may run too deep for anyone to detect.

He had recently moved back in and continued his recovery at home, Calia almost always by his side. Beyond her fears and doubts, Jaina was still happy to have her brother back, happier still that he had found a friend, perhaps a partner, and was doing well adjusting to his new self.

She was about to head down the stairs when she heard faint high-pitched giggling coming from Derek’s room. She flushed slightly and hurried down the stairs, more than happy to let Derek and Calia have some time alone. She wandered into the kitchen, intent on a snack that was not a mana cake. She found a block of cheese and sliced off a few pieces, popping one into her mouth. She poured a glass of apple juice and drank it down, eating another piece of cheese.

Perhaps, everything with her brother was fine. Perhaps, she was just worrying too much. It seemed that lately, all she did was worry. She longed for a change.

She left the kitchen with a couple pieces of cheese and made her way back up the stairs towards her room. She heard more giggling, along with some sounds she wished she could unhear, and she rushed to her room, a sheepish grin on her face.

Safely back in her room, grateful for the distance and thick walls, she slipped off her robe and slippers and plopped on her bed, lying comfortably on her back as she finished off her cheese. She waved a hand to extinguish the candles and closed her eyes, fully prepared for a good night’s sleep.

Almost as soon as she closed her eyes, Sylvanas immediately entered her mind. She thought of the last part of their encounter, thought of how the banshee had firmly grasped her arm and had almost desperately asked for her to take care of Vereesa. It was difficult to think of Sylvanas, the Dark Lady, the Banshee Queen, as someone who cared deeply about anyone, particularly after her speech at the Mak’gora. Yet there she had been, at her childhood home, with her thoughts being only of her baby sister’s safety and well-being. Jaina loved her brothers, but the protective nature of Sylvanas was on another level entirely.

She sighed, willing sleep to come. Tomorrow was going to be a big day and Jaina needed to rest. After about an hour, she was finally close to drifting off, snuggled under her blankets, curled up and comfortable.

A knock on the door roused her instantly and she groaned, tossing back the covers and standing. She reached for her robe, pulling it on and padding tiredly to her door. She opened it and leaned heavily against it, her eyes exhausted.

“Oh!” Calia gasped. “You were sleeping. We’re so sorry.”

Jaina waved a dismissive hand, looking between Calia and Derek. “It’s fine,” she murmured, “just been a long couple of days.”

“We heard about Saurfang,” said Derek. “I’m sorry, Jaina, about all that’s happened.”

Jaina smiled softly. “It’s all work itself out,” she said, “I’m sure of it.”

“Glad to hear it,” said Calia, “because Derek and I have been talking and... we have something to announce.”

She seemed to be almost bouncing with excitement and Jaina felt equal amounts of happiness and dread taking up residence in her stomach. “Yes?” Jaina prompted, looking nervously between the two of them.

“We spoke with Lilian Voss, about a new leader and a new direction for the Forsaken, with Windrunner out of the picture.”

Jaina swallowed hard, her heart beginning to hammer in her chest.

“Derek and I will lead the Forsaken into a new era,” Calia said proudly.

Jaina’s stomach dropped. It was not a bad idea, but given what she and Thalyssra had managed to glean from their talk with Sylvanas, she wondered if it was premature. If she and Thalyssra could pinpoint the exact issue, if they could find out exactly what was happening and put a stop to it and help Sylvanas, then surely she would like to lead her Forsaken once more. She smiled tightly, trying to hide her inner conflict.

“That’s great,” she managed, but her heart was not in it and the reactions of both Derek and Calia told her they knew it.

“What’s wrong?” Calia asked gently, taking one of Jaina’s hands in hers.

She was unsure if she should reveal that she had spoken with Sylvanas. So far, only a few people knew, and she felt as though that may be preferable for the time being.

“Nothing,” she said, “nothing’s wrong. It’s just been an incredibly long day and I—“

“Say no more, Jaina,” Derek cut in, “we’ll let you get some rest and we can talk about this another day.”

“Thank you, Derek,” Jaina murmured, and she squeezed Calia’s hand as she turned to her friend. “I’m happy for you—both of you.”

Calia nodded. “Good night, Jaina.”

“Good night.” Jaina watched as they walked off and she closed her door, leaning back against it, sucking in several deep, steadying breaths.

As she walked back over to her bed and climbed in, she wondered if things could possibly get any worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the feedback so far, I’m looking forward to more. Comments really help me with making sure my points and such are getting across the way I hope they will.
> 
> I’m also just a needy bitch who likes seeing new messages in my inbox, lmao.
> 
> Anyway, hopefully this chapter was enjoyable. Things will be ramping up more soon.


	3. “Oh, I Would Have Loved to Have Seen That...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shortish, fluffyish installment before the heavy shit next chapter.

The next day, Jaina slept in late and when she awoke, she was relieved that it was almost afternoon. She spent the day trying to think happy thoughts, but none came. She ate small meals to settle her stomach and tried doing exercises that Antonidas had taught her long ago, exercises to clear her mind and focus her concentration. It worked somewhat, but she still felt tense and stressed all day. When evening finally came, she teleported to Dalaran, finding Thalyssra already in the library, seated at a table, reading over some notes.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting,” Jaina said apologetically.

“Oh no,” Thalyssra said, pushing her notes aside, “I was just looking over some notes from yesterday.”

“Anything new or interesting?”

Thalyssra frowned and shook her head. “Not really.”

Jaina nodded and took a seat across from her, rapping her fingers on a book, her thoughts filled with the potential ramifications of Calia and Derek leading the Forsaken.

“Something’s bothering you,” Thalyssra said, reaching across the table to pat her hand.

Jaina nodded again, a pit settling into her stomach. “Calia and Derek talked to me last night,” she shared, her voice rough. “Apparently, they spoke with Lilian Voss about heading up the Forsaken, and... I don’t know what to think.”

Thalyssra clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Is there somewhere more comfortable we can talk?”

“My old quarters,” Jaina murmured.

“Okay. I’ll be right back.”

Jaina watched her teleport away and wondered what she could be doing. Her thoughts ran wild again, Calia, Derek, Alleria, Vereesa, Sylvanas...

_Sylvanas_.

She could not get Sylvanas out of her head and it was driving her crazy. She shivered at the memory of Sylvanas grasping her arm and pleading with her, then later, Calia and Derek telling her their plans. She ran her hands through her hastily done braid and stood up from the table just as Thalyssra teleported back.

The elder mage had armfuls of wine bottles and was sporting a wide grin. Jaina laughed at the sight and led Thalyssra to her old quarters.

***

“So then, I slipped back into my room with my friends howling at me.” Jaina took a long drink from her bottle of wine, her face red from the memory, her cheeks hurting from laughing.

“I can’t believe you ran through the streets of Dalaran _completely_ naked!”

“I can’t, either,” Jaina said, grinning, “but I won the bet!” Thalyssra was covering her mouth with both hands, laughing uncontrollably.

“Oh, I would have _loved_ to have seen that...” Thalyssra gulped as Jaina’s eyebrows raised and she added sheepishly, “I-I mean... it, uh... you know... it was probably hilarious to watch in person...”

Jaina felt a rush of warmth throughout her body as she watched Thalyssra blush fiercely and take a long drink from her own bottle. They had been telling silly stories from when they were younger, both of them sharing even sillier stories as the night wore on and their first bottles had turned into seconds. Jaina felt more relaxed than she had in some time, despite what had happened the previous day with Sylvanas, despite the fact that they still had yet to speak with Alleria and Vereesa.

Thalyssra had set all the bottles down once they had arrived in Jaina’s quarters, taking one for herself and handing Jaina one all her own. Jaina had cocked an eyebrow, but Thalyssra had merely popped the cork on hers and settled in on a plush couch, taking a long drink. Jaina had done the same and soon, the air between them had been thick with unspoken thoughts of Sylvanas, Calia, and Derek.

They first spoke about the latter two, Jaina sharing her concerns and Thalyssra responding helpfully and reasonably. Jaina had said that she was worried that such a change in leadership may not be necessary, if they could help Sylvanas. Thalyssra had agreed, and Jaina felt slightly comforted knowing she was not alone in her reaction to what Calia and Derek had told her.

The topic had then shifted to the banshee, and they shared theories and ideas, both trying to figure out what was going on. They had been right about Sylvanas, they could tell by talking to her that something was wrong, something the banshee would not, or perhaps, _could_ not reveal. Her eyes had looked tired and broken, her expression haunting Jaina’s thoughts. Jaina had thought of Vereesa and Alleria, and how she still needed to tell them what had transpired, what Sylvanas had said regarding Vereesa, and what she and Thalyssra had learned.

She was afraid.

She did not know what Sylvanas was going through, did not know if she was under someone else’s influence, someone sinister, but it certainly seemed that way. If Sylvanas was unwilling or unable to share what was happening, what could they do to help her? Would they be able to find out what was happening? Would their investigating end up harming her?

She tried to push her thoughts back to the story she had just shared, thinking about how Thalyssra had reacted and how amazingly silly they had both felt. After initially talking and thinking about all the issues they faced, she had welcomed the night eventually becoming lighthearted and sweet. She was upset enough, some silliness was exactly what she needed.

Jaina took a long drink from her bottle and set it down. She was still drunk, still feeling pleasantly light-headed, but her thoughts were turning somber and she was beginning to deflate somewhat. She sighed deeply and looked down at her hands in her lap. Thalyssra reached forward, setting down her own bottle, and brushed her fingers lightly over Jaina’s unsteady hands. Jaina looked up, finding a look of genuine concern on her friend’s face.

Jaina flipped her hands over and Thalyssra began tracing patterns on her open palms, sending pleasant shivers down Jaina’s spine. She began to calm at Thalyssra’s actions, finding herself involuntarily leaning forward, biting her lip when she realized Thalyssra was doing the same. Thoughts of Sylvanas and her apparent plight kept running through Jaina’s head and she found herself in need of comfort and reassurance, found herself needing a night where she was not plagued by terrible thoughts.

Guilt flooded her. She felt selfish, but how long had it been since she had had anything for herself? Any free time? Anyone to spend time _with_? She needed this, needed _something_...

She deserved this.

She leaned forward, lifting her hands to Thalyssra’s face, briefly searching the elder mage’s eyes before kissing her hard, their lips crashing together roughly, hands slipping into one another’s hair. She wondered, just for a moment, if she was ruining their friendship, and she nearly pulled back. Her thoughts shifted quickly as Thalyssra parted her lips with an eager, wandering tongue, and warmth flowed through her again, her mind at ease, at least for the moment.

Jaina took more initiative, pressing Thalyssra down on the couch, lying on top of her, kissing her deeply. She let her hands begin to wander the elder mage’s body, fingers ghosting over subtle curves. She felt dizzy with want and need, felt bold from the wine. She was warm all over, melting at the way Thalyssra’s hands slid down her back and waist, entirely relishing just being _touched_ after so long without it.

She wanted more, or so she thought, but a voice in the back of her head discouraged her. She settled for Thalyssra’s hands on her hips, her own hands reaching up to cup the elder mage’s face, their lips still locked. They kissed for a few moments more, then Jaina drew back slowly, panting, trying to catch her breath, as Thalyssra did the same. She tenderly stroked Thalyssra’s hair, gazing into bright eyes.

“The wine...” Jaina began, a sheepish smile on her lips, “I think it went to my head a little bit...”

“Me too,” Thalyssra chuckled. “It’s been a while since I’ve done that...”

“Drunkenly kissed someone?” Jaina asked, feeling a bit cheeky.

“Mhm,” Thalyssra said, lifting a knowing eyebrow at Jaina.

Jaina’s smile broadened as she pulled back entirely and settled in against an arm of the couch, her legs outstretched and resting on Thalyssra’s lap. The elder mage patted her shins and absently tugged and pinched the fabric of her leggings. Jaina felt relaxed as she conjured two mana cakes and tossed one to Thalyssra who grinned and caught it, taking a big bite. Jaina reached for a bottle of water next to her wine and closed her eyes as she took a long swig and a bite of her cake.

She opened her eyes and watched Thalyssra eat, watched as her flushed cheeks returned to their normal color. She felt the heat leave her own face and the rest of her body, replaced with a pleasant coolness. She felt good, the kiss had given her a sense of calm and peacefulness that she had not felt in ages. She thought about the woman next to her, the woman with whom she had forged a friendship and had shared a drunken kiss. Judging by how relaxed Thalyssra seemed, Jaina wondered if her friend had come to the same conclusion she had, that the bond between them was one of a deep, caring friendship, but that the kiss had not been a mistake.

Giving Thalyssra a playful pinch on the arm, she decided to ask and confirm her thoughts. “We’re... friends, right?”

Thalyssra smiled warmly and gave Jaina’s thigh a playful pinch of her own. “Of course we are.”

Jaina turned serious for a moment, “Friends, but not—“

“Not lovers, no,” Thalyssra replied gently. “Our story isn’t meant to go that route, I don’t think...”

“I don’t think so, either,” Jaina agreed, her voice soft.

“Of course, that isn’t to say I didn’t enjoy the kiss...” Thalyssra quirked an eyebrow in Jaina’s direction.

“It _was_ nice...” Jaina murmured, shooting a silly grin to Thalyssra who returned it.

“It was, indeed.”

They were silent for a while, both munching on their cakes and sipping water, still sitting comfortably, Jaina’s legs still draped over Thalyssra’s lap. As Jaina ate, her thoughts turned to Sylvanas again, and she grew somber, replaying the conversation with the banshee in her mind once more. Soon, it was all she could think about, completely taking over all of her thoughts.

“She looked so _broken_,” Jaina all but burst out, a clear image in her mind of the banshee.

Thalyssra gasped softly at Jaina’s words, then nodded, still fiddling with the fabric of Jaina’s leggings. Sylvanas had shown none of the bold swagger that Jaina had usually seen her with, did not speak in the sarcastic way that Jaina had expected from her. Jaina took another bite of her cake, another sip of her water, steadily sobering. She thought of Vereesa, of the pure love the woman had for her sister, wanting Sylvanas to be safe, to be herself again. Jaina was hit with a jolt of a realization that Sylvanas, some way, somehow, needed their help, needed to be saved. Jaina was nearly overcome with an overwhelming feeling of needing to protect Sylvanas.

She knew that Vereesa and Alleria needed to know about the conversation with Sylvanas. That was, indeed, what they were supposed to be preparing for before they began talking about Calia and Derek and then Sylvanas herself. They would talk to the sisters, they would share what they learned... but Jaina hoped that perhaps they may be able to bring Sylvanas back with them before they did.

It was a long shot, she knew. Whatever was happening was likely incredibly complicated and would not be solved by an impromptu trip back to Windrunner Spire.

Still, though, she had to try.

She stood quickly and began casting a portal. Thalyssra stood with her and asked, her eyes wide and curious, “Where are we going?”

Jaina smiled and said, “We’re going to save the Warchief.”

Thalyssra smiled back and the two stepped through the portal, back to the Spire. It was dark and the night air was cool enough that Jaina shivered lightly, tugging up her hood. They approached the Spire with caution, looking for guards or traps. Finding neither, they headed for the door, and Jaina tried to push it open, meeting solid resistance. She ran her hand over the heavy wood and frowned. She tried several spells to no avail. Beside her, Thalyssra tried various spells to open it as well, and she groaned and shook her head.

It was sealed with some kind of strong ward, something that neither of them knew how to bypass. There was powerful magic here and Jaina found herself terrified. Whoever was keeping Sylvanas here had more power than Jaina and Thalyssra and that was a frightening thought.

Jaina walked around the Spire, her hand running along the structure’s stone. There were a few windows, but they were small and unreachable. Thalyssra walked with her, the pair of them looking all about the Spire for additional entrances and finding none. Jaina heaved a frustrated sigh and Thalyssra squeezed her shoulder.

They were not getting inside, not without help. Jaina nudged Thalyssra’s shoulder with hers. “Wrathion and Magni have been putting their heads together, trying to figure out how to turn N’Zoth’s magic against him. Maybe they can help with this.” She gulped hard as she said thoughtfully, “Maybe it’s even the same magic...”

Thalyssra’s expression changed to one of fear and Jaina winced, feeling fearful herself. “You think N’Zoth is behind this?”

“Or Azshara. Or both.”

“Let’s go see them,” Thalyssra said, and cast a portal to Silithus.

Standing outside the Chamber of Heart, Jaina exhaled a shaky breath and Thalyssra looked at her with concern. “We still need to tell Vereesa and Alleria what we’ve learned.”

“We will,” Thalyssra said, her voice reassuring. “We’ll go see them after we find out if Wrathion and Magni can help us.” She patted Jaina’s back and Jaina relaxed just a little.

Telling the eldest and youngest Windrunner sisters was going to be difficult. Alleria would likely dismiss what they had learned, saying that it was probably all a ruse to eventually take advantage of them, to get them feeling sympathetic so Sylvanas could strike when they did not expect it. Vereesa would believe them and try to convince her sister that Sylvanas was in danger.

Jaina and Thalyssra entered the Chamber of Heart finding Wrathion and Magni poring over notes, standing at a table filled with flasks and vials filled with various liquids and substances. Kalec stood near them, helping them go over notes and mix concoctions. Alleria and Vereesa were also with them, and Jaina gulped hard. She had not expected them to be here, but it seemed she and Vereesa were helping with the mixtures.

“Didn’t expect to see you two here,” Jaina said, as brightly as she could, trying to hide the unease she felt.

“You’re back!” Vereesa squealed, rushing into Jaina’s arms and hugging her tightly. Jaina found herself smiling and relaxed, the tension within her fading. She closed her eyes as Vereesa held her, then slowly opened them when Vereesa pulled back and addressed her excitedly, “What did you learn?”

Jaina gave Vereesa a kind look and said, “We talked to her briefly, at the Spire.”

“Oh?” Alleria asked, and Jaina turned to her, watching her ears flick back and then flatten against her head. Jaina thought it seemed as though she was upset that she and Vereesa had been right and their sister had gone home. “What did she have to say for herself, then?”

Jaina watched Vereesa shoot her sister a warning look. Alleria just shook her head, turning back to the table and speaking quietly with Wrathion and Magni. Vereesa was still looking at Jaina with a hopeful expression.

“You two were right,” Jaina said, looking between them, watching as tears filled Vereesa’s eyes and Alleria’s shoulders tensed considerably. “Something’s going on, but she wouldn’t say what. She...” Jaina looked at Vereesa and said softly, “She asked me to take care of you.”

That got Alleria’s attention and she walked over to her sister, slipping an arm around Vereesa’s shoulders as the youngest Windrunner sister wept. Jaina stepped close and rubbed Vereesa’s shoulder.

“That sounds like Sylvanas,” Alleria admitted quietly. Her voice was almost a low growl and Jaina could tell she was struggling to come to terms with the situation. Gently, but grudgingly, she added, “Maybe... maybe she’s still in there after all.”

“She is!” Vereesa cried, “I know she is!”

“After we talked to her last night, she went inside the Spire and shut the door. We went back tonight and found the door still shut, but we couldn’t open it. There’s powerful magic keeping it sealed and we couldn’t get inside.”

Thalyssra spoke up, addressing Wrathion and Magni. “It feels like N’Zoth and possibly Azshara are behind this. We were hoping you might be able to help.”

“Maybe,” said Wrathion. “We’ve been using different concoction variants to help stave off and destroy Old God magic.”

Magni nodded. “We can make a few and let ye try ‘em against the door.”

“It’ll take some time,” Wrathion said, “they may not be done for a few hours.”

“That’s all right,” said Thalyssra, “we can wait or we can head there first thing in the morning.”

Vereesa wrapped Jaina in another hug and held her tight. “Tell me what else she said, how she acted,” Vereesa pleaded. “I want to know everything.”

“Of course,” Jaina whispered, and she guided Vereesa to a couple of chairs a fair distance from everyone so they could have some privacy, and the pair settled in for a chat while Wrathion and Magni went back to work.

***

“How are the boys?” Jaina asked gently. They had discussed Sylvanas at length and had eventually moved on to other subjects. Jaina was feeling guilty that she had been neglecting her friend as of late and she hoped to rectify it.

Vereesa nodded slowly, running a hand through her hair. “They’re good. A handful, but good.”

“I haven’t seen them in forever, it feels like,” Jaina said, color in her cheeks and a nervous chuckle on her lips.

“It’s certainly been a while,” Vereesa agreed, “but I’ve had my own issues to deal with and you’ve had your own life to—“

“It’s no excuse,” Jaina whispered, grasping her hands. “You’re my friend and I should be making a better effort to be in your life and the lives of Giramar and Galadin.” Vereesa smiled and Jaina saw that her eyes were shining with tears. “We’ll make time, I promise.”

“I’d like that,” Vereesa said, tears slipping down her cheeks, “and I know the boys will, too.”

Jaina squeezed Vereesa’s hands as Vereesa leaned forward and kissed her cheek. They smiled at one another and Jaina felt her mood lighten, felt the stress of struggling to figure out what was happening with Sylvanas fade somewhat. She would absolutely do her damnedest to save Sylvanas, to help bring the Windrunner sisters close again, and then she would ensure that she saw Vereesa and the boys on a regular basis.

Things would finally settle down, she would have time to herself and time for friends. She would fall into a routine and everything would be... normal. She had wondered what that meant when she was waiting for Thalyssra to return with dinner when they were studying in Dalaran. She had not had much time to ponder what “normal” meant, at least in her case, but for now, she would allow it to mean not being as stressed as she typically was and to spend more time with the people she cared about and loved.

She stood, smiling, and embraced Vereesa. “I’m going to head back to Boralus and get some sleep,” she said.

“Yes,” Vereesa said as she pulled back, reaching up to tuck Jaina’s hair behind her ear, “get well-rested for tomorrow.” As Jaina nodded, Vereesa took a deep breath and whispered, “Bring my sister home. Please.”

Jaina felt tears in her eyes and she forced herself to nod. She would discover what was wrong, she would put a stop to what was going on, and she would save Sylvanas Windrunner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going to put warnings here and at the start of the next chapter when I eventually post it. The warning tags at the top of the fic allude to what’s coming, and I don’t want to be specific because I’d rather not spoil everything, but the next chapter is going to be heavy.
> 
> Thanks for all the feedback so far! I really enjoy seeing what you guys have to say, gets me super pumped when I’m writing.


	4. “Good as New”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, here’s the chapter I wrote a few weeks ago and have been returning to a fair amount to make sure it feels right and sets everything up for the rest of the story.
> 
> It’s a heavy chapter, with violence and some questionable coping mechanisms, but it does get better in the next chapter (which I likely will post soon, once I get it ready, as it should serve as a palate cleanser after this chapter).
> 
> I do hope I don’t scare anyone off with this chapter, as I have some fun stuff coming up that I’ve really loved writing and I’m excited to share with everyone.
> 
> In any case, here’s chapter 4 and we have a PoV change here as well, as it was necessary to tell this part of the story.
> 
> Thanks for following along and thanks for the comments. Feedback is always really appreciated and helps me know how I’m doing.

Sylvanas awoke slowly, her vision blurred. It was dark and she could only vaguely see the outline of one of her tormentors before her, a familiar dagger in hand. She stiffened, her vision clearing. She was pressed against the cold stone of a wall, her arms stretched out, wrists shackled to the stone. Her feet were on the ground, but her ankles were shackled to the same wall, preventing her from moving.

Her body was adorned in her usual armor, but her tormentors had seen to it that what she wore was battered and nearly destroyed. Blue skin peeked out beneath her ripped and sliced leathers, blood dripping from her wounds. Her arms felt heavy and tired, but it had taken days of being here, beneath Windrunner Spire, tucked away in an old dusty cellar to feel that way. She received only brief breaks, long enough to try and limit suspicion—as when two unexpected visitors had come calling—then she was back in the cellar.

The discomfort did not bother her at first. She was a banshee after all, she did not generally feel pain, or at least, not to the extent that she did when she was alive. For a while, it had been an annoyance, but the longer she stayed in this position, the worse she began to feel.

It had started off light, the torture. Slaps, smacks, light cuts. It had progressed to deeper cuts and long slices, all the while she was forced to stay in the same position, her arms outstretched, unable to rest, except for brief periods. A variety of tools had been used over time, knives, daggers, swords, even bare hands. Her wounds generally healed quickly, just on the virtue of her state of being as a banshee, which only made the torture increase in its intensity.

Her wounds left no scars when they healed, something that seemed to drive her tormentors nearly mad. They wanted evidence of the suffering they inflicted upon her, wanted her to be fully aware of whom she served, even though she was doing so against her will.

She had previously struck a deal with one of her tormentors, believing that this was the key to saving Azeroth. She had been betrayed, finding that the one she had aligned with never intended to work with her and had, in fact, been working instead with the one Sylvanas had believed they would fight together. In retrospect, she should not have believed anything good would come out of the pact. She knew it was a bad idea, she knew that it was likely she would be betrayed, but it seemed to be her only option.

She had already struck a couple of accords with unlikely allies. One was with Helya, the ruler of Helheim. Anyone who perished in the war was immediately sent to Helya to assist in helping to push back any and all threats that may crop up. This had been going on for months and her tormentors did not know. She was playing a dangerous game. If they found out, ruin would surely come to everyone. She had only told Nathanos of what was happening with Helya, that she was preparing an army.

_Nathanos_...

She had informed him of her plan, but she could not tell him of the torture she had been suffering for months on end below the Spire. She wished she could. He loved her, she knew, and she found solace in his company. When she was allowed to leave, when her tormentors let her wander the Spire in relative peace, she went to him. She felt alive, felt like herself when he wrapped her in his arms and held her, when he touched her so tenderly that she wanted to cry, wanted to tell him the truth, the whole truth.

She always refrained.

She knew what would happen if she did. She knew this tentative, strained deal, such as it was, would only persist if she continued to follow her tormentors’ plans. Her contingency with Helya was in place, slowly building, but it was all she could do. Anything else, any hint given to Nathanos or anyone, and it would be over. If anyone else found out what was truly happening, they would likely try to put a stop to it, which would mean her tormentors finding out that their secret was no longer safe.

Her tormentors had been carefully putting together a plan to resurrect the Black Empire and to force the focus onto Sylvanas, to make it seem as though she was truly evil, that _she_ was the true threat.

It had worked thus far, had worked incredibly well, in fact.

She had been corrupted by her tormentors, forced to do their bidding. The first had been killing Calia Menethil and striking down her own people. She had not wanted to do so. She was on-board completely with her Forsaken seeing their family again. She was sentimental, perhaps to a fault. It was, indeed, why she had returned to Windrunner Spire. It also just happened to be the perfect place for her tormentors to attempt to destroy her spirit, in the home that she had so many happy memories in.

Next, was the burning of Teldrassil. Sylvanas was many things, but genocidal mass murderer was not one of them. She wanted to cut off the flow of azerite, she had not wanted to annihilate the city, but her tormentors had other plans. They warped her mind whenever they allowed her to leave the Spire and she was forced to do as they wished, and so, the tree had burned.

It was almost amazing just how long she had been under their influence unable to tell anyone, to even give a hint without risking not only her own life, but the lives of everyone on Azeroth. As a result, she did what she had been corrupted and forced to do, killing Calia, burning Teldrassil, raising and brainwashing Derek, killing Zelling, imprisoning Baine...

The most recent of the terrible acts she had committed under the influence of her tormentors had been brutally defeating Varok Saurfang in a Mak’gora. She had been imbued with power, power that had been forced upon her and then stripped away as soon as she had returned to the Spire. The power had felt incredible when it flowed through her, so much so that she wished she could keep it, wished she could turn it on her tormentors. But after she had been forced to kill Saurfang, forced to give a speech she did not want to, forced to shift into her banshee form and return to the Spire immediately, forced back into her shackles, the power had been wrenched from her. A blinding pain had shot through her body, making her sob and shake as the laughter of her tormentors filled her head.

She was alone, truly alone, in her despair, unable to reach out to anyone, lest the world be destroyed. Each day was a new weapon, her body a blank slate to be carved into, one that erased itself every time she healed and made the torture even worse, even more intensive.

Today was no different, except for the strength of the weapon used. It was the dagger that once held Xal’atath and even with her having vacated the vessel, there was still such power in it, power that seemed to be in direct opposition to Sylvanas’ existence. The pain was immediate and strong, making Sylvanas whimper and cry out, to the joy of her tormentors.

“Ooh,” purred the one holding the dagger, slicing deep gashes into her abdomen, making her blood spill forth like a tilted pitcher of water. “I think we found something extremely sensitive...”

Sylvanas tried to stay strong through the pain, her eyes shut tight. She managed to hold in her sobs, biting her lip hard enough to split it and make it bleed. She wanted out, wanted to heal, wanted to tell someone—_anyone_—what she was going through without the fear of death for herself or others.

Everyone would perish if she did. Her tormentors had said so, had pounded it into her head over and over. So she endured. And she hoped that Helya’s plan was moving swiftly, ready to tackle the Black Empire when it officially resurfaced. She could not wait, she fairly thrummed with excitement at the thought of ripping her tormentors limb from limb, making them pay for everything they had done and everything they still planned to do.

With a last slice down the middle of her bare stomach, her tormentor wiped the dagger on a cloth and set it down. Sylvanas shivered as her wounds knit closed and the pain slowly faded. She looked into the eyes of the person in front of her, one half of the cause of all the agony she had been put through so far. The other half was in the shadows, where she could only see glowing orange eyes.

Tentacles slithered up her body towards her wrists and Sylvanas grimaced at the slimy feel against her wounds as they finally finished closing. The tentacles slipped open the shackles binding her and she dropped her arms immediately, rubbing the dull ache out of them. The tentacles moved down, opening the cuffs around her ankles and she slumped down against the wall, thoroughly exhausted. She closed her eyes, her fingers running lightly over her wrists, her energy very slowly beginning to come back to her.

“You had visitors.”

Sylvanas winced. Was this a trick? Would she be immediately thrown back up against the wall for more torture?

“Good on you for choosing not to reveal anything. Did you know they would come?”

“No.”

“I didn’t think so. The conversation, though, was rather interesting to witness.”

Sylvanas wondered where, exactly, her tormentor had been to have heard the conversation, but it hardly mattered. She knew that she had not shared anything that could bring about more death, at least not yet. She was still playing by the rules. They still did not know about Helya, nor did they know of her other accord, one she had made years before, one that dated back to her gaining val’kyr allies.

It was important, now that the world was in danger, now that Old Gods were returning and threatening to upset the delicate balance between Life and Death. Death was growing weaker, Old Gods were seeing to it. With Death not at full strength, their world was at risk for even more destruction. Death was not an evil entity, it was merely one that existed on the same level as Life. When the two were balanced, their world was safe. But now that Old Gods and the Black Empire were back in the mix, Death was weakening in their presence. It would need assistance to be restored to its former glory, and that was where Helya’s army would come in. The army would be used to not only fight against the Old Gods, but they would also be needed in the Shadowlands, to add their essence to the machine of Death, to grease the wheels that kept Death going.

Elune primarily balanced Life, while another, the Jailer, balanced Death. They coexisted peacefully, both needing the other to ensure that Azeroth did not crumble. But it _was_ in fact, beginning to crumble, and both of Sylvanas’ accords would see it fixed, once everything was ready, once she could eventually get out... assuming she even could, assuming she would not be stuck here forever, or killed before she could make her move.

Only she knew about Death’s struggles, and it was through her connection with her val’kyr. She wanted to tell anyone else, wanted to say that a force bigger than all of them was shaping their world, was the only thing that stood between them and destruction.

She was broken out of her thoughts when her tormentor spoke again.

“Go upstairs. Go see that lovelorn soul. We’ll see you back here tomorrow, Lady Windrunner.”

Sylvanas slowly got to her feet. The sweet-sounding voice permeated her ears and her mind and she wanted to strangle the woman before her, the woman who had insisted that they would work together to take down N’Zoth, to put an end to his plans to bring back the Black Empire. Instead, Azshara had played her, had led her into a trap and paved the way for N’Zoth to take over her mind, have her commit horrifying acts that she could have never conceived of, would never have done in her lifetime.

Before his release from his prison, he had still been able to worm his way into her subconscious, to take over her thoughts, her words, her actions. She felt like a puppet and N’Zoth was pulling all of her strings. It had taken her by surprise. She did not think undead were susceptible to being controlled by other forces, apart from the Lich King. The fact that N’Zoth had stripped her of her free will, of her ability to think and act for herself, showed that nothing could be further from the truth.

She considered herself grateful that Azshara and N’Zoth had seen fit to only control and torture _her_. She was not sure she would be able to stand it if Nathanos or any of her people or the Horde were taken over. Even so, she feared that was part of their plan, once it was far enough along. She imagined they would eventually want or need mindless minions to ensure that the Empire was allowed to flourish, to ensure that their plans were not foiled.

Sylvanas waited, as she always did, for the last step before she was truly allowed to leave the cellar. Azshara turned to her and smiled, a cocky, toothy smile that made Sylvanas feel sick. The mage lifted one hand above Sylvanas’ head and brought it down slowly, fingers running along her tattered armor, mending it, and washing away any trace of blood on her leathers and her body, leaving her looking almost better than she did before she had earlier descended into the cellar.

“There,” Azshara said, as she always did, “good as new.”

Sylvanas said nothing, merely walked towards the stairs and climbed up them, her legs feeling achy and sore from having been on her feet for so long. She heard the telltale sound of N’Zoth and Azshara both teleporting away, for a little while, as they sometimes did. They would be back the next day, and Sylvanas could do nothing in the meantime.

She walked to her room, not feeling well enough to see if Nathanos had yet returned from the task she had given him, a task that was partly to hide the fact that she would be down in the cellar for some time and partly to gain information from Helya, to get an update on how her army of souls was progressing.

She entered her room, finding the darkness welcoming. She carefully removed her armor and climbed into bed in her undergarments, pulling the covers to her chin. She closed her eyes, ready for sleep. She did not need sleep, strictly speaking, but after the long sessions in the cellar, she always needed rest of some sort, and then comfort when she awoke.

Nathanos was always there, always ready to fold her into his arms and hold her, kiss her, touch her, until she melted into him and he made her forget, made her believe—just for a moment—that all was well. Her mind raced. She was free from torment when she was at the Spire, but as soon as she left the area, N’Zoth would invade her mind, take her over, make her his to do what he and Azshara wanted. She tried to calm herself, burrowing deeper under the covers, face tucked into her pillow.

With her mind free for a while, her thoughts turned to the visitors who had come to the Spire, one of whom she had almost never expected to see again and the other someone she had never expected to see at all. They had both been determined and angry and surprisingly concerned with her well-being and what was happening.

Thankfully, her torture had been done and out of the way early that day and Azshara and N’Zoth had let her wander the Spire and await Nathanos’ return. She was not herself during the conversation. Her mind was free, but she felt so broken and destroyed that she could barely interact with them.

She felt for Thalyssra, a woman who had been through an ordeal, had overcome many obstacles, and had ultimately chosen to ally with the Horde. And not long after, she had gotten to watch her new Warchief commit crime after crime with zero explanation.

And then there was Proudmoore, and it had been absolutely baffling to see and briefly speak with her. That she was working with Thalyssra, that the Alliance and the Horde were working together blew her mind. And then Proudmoore had mentioned her sister. Her baby sister Vereesa, whom she loved and adored and wanted to keep safe. She loved Alleria, too, but she had always been closer to Vereesa, and Vereesa to her. They had a strong bond from a young age that only seemed to grow as the years went on.

She did not know the fate that ultimately awaited her. She was allowed to leave sometimes, either for specific reasons or events, or simply to keep up appearances, but she imagined this was not how the rest of her life would be. She would likely eventually be killed, once she outlived her usefulness, once the Black Empire had made its full comeback. She figured she would no longer be needed and Azshara, or perhaps N’Zoth himself, would end her life.

At this point, she almost welcomed it. After all that she had done, despite being under N’Zoth’s control, she was as good as dead anyway. She would not be allowed to live, unless it was in a cell, and even that was being generous. Even knowing what awaited her in death, she wondered if it could be any worse than what she was already experiencing in life.

She thought of Proudmoore again, thought about what she had told the woman, to take care of Vereesa. Proudmoore had looked shaken, but she had nodded her agreement, and something told Sylvanas that she would keep the unspoken promise. It was a nice thought, one that afforded her some peace of mind. Vereesa would be safe, protected by Jaina Proudmoore.

Her thoughts turned to Nathanos and she felt a bit of warmth flow through her. He should be back by the morning and they would spend time together before she sent him away again. She wondered if he suspected anything, or if she had been a good enough liar to prevent any doubts. She shook her head, curling up in a ball beneath the blankets, content to believe that Nathanos was in the dark.

With a last thought of the man who had dedicated his life to her service and happiness, Sylvanas fell asleep.

***

Sylvanas awoke the next morning to Nathanos holding her tight, cool lips on her neck and shoulder. It was a new day and despite everything, she felt better. She knew she would be back down in the cellar soon enough, but for now, she was going to be wrapped up in the man with his arms around her, cool body pressed against her own, creating some warmth between them. She turned over, caressing his face as he touched her, his calloused hands moving up and down her leg, then up to her hip.

“Morning, my love,” he whispered, leaning close and kissing her. Sylvanas closed her eyes, moving closer to him, sighing against his lips.

“Morning,” she whispered back. Straight to business, she asked, “Any news?”

Nathanos sighed and said, “Progress continues, as usual. We should be ready soon.”

“Good,” she whispered. She was glad to hear it. Soon, they would be able to strike at the heart of the Black Empire, destroy it before it could destroy them. She allowed herself the smallest of smiles, closing her eyes as Nathanos continued to touch her.

He ran his hands over her breasts, then down her stomach and she nearly winced, thinking of all the lines that had been carved into her the previous day, lines that had healed fully and left no scars, no physical indication that anything had happened to her. There were only her mental scars, her thoughts racing, unable to stop thinking about yesterday and the day before and the day before that...

She shook her head and quietly cleared her throat as Nathanos moved atop her. She closed her eyes as he held her, murmuring kind things in her ear as he moved. She felt soothed by the love he clearly felt for her, though she was unsure if she loved him, too. She loved his friendship and his loyalty, loved the comfort he provided her. But she did not know if she loved _him_.

She did not know if she was even capable of that feeling anymore.

She wondered if she was using him, wondered if it mattered if she was. She wanted to feel better, wanted to not feel alone. She thought of Thalyssra and Proudmoore, thought about how determined they were to discover the truth, how it seemed as though they actually _cared_ about her. She felt an uncharacteristic jolt of emotion in her chest and she gasped as Nathanos let out a soft groan, tensing above her, then finally relaxing with a sigh. He held her more tightly and she lost herself in a flurry of his kisses as his hand went between them, helping her find her own release. Gentle waves washed over her, making her tremble and briefly think about the cellar and what was in store for her. She pushed the thought out of her mind as she descended from her high, Nathanos still holding her close.

She felt warm and soft and peaceful, savoring the moment, savoring the calm before the storm that was the torture session that awaited her.

***

Later, once Sylvanas had dressed and sent Nathanos on his way again, she headed down to the cellar, finding a table and two chairs. She narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out the meaning behind the new set-up.

“There you are,” came Azshara’s voice from the shadows, and Sylvanas nearly jumped in surprise. “Afraid?” she asked.

Sylvanas did not answer, merely sat down when Azshara gestured for her to do so.

“You should be.”

Sylvanas swallowed and folded her hands on the table as Azshara spoke again.

“We have very little time.”

Sylvanas looked up as Azshara sat in the chair opposite her. She found herself confused at what the naga queen had said.

_”Little time”?_

How could they possibly have “little time,” when they were always down here for hours on end, with Azshara carving Sylvanas like a Hallow’s End pumpkin?

“He may be back soon,” Azshara said quickly, “and you need to know what’s truly going on.”

Sylvanas squinted at Azshara, confused at how almost... frightened... she seemed to be of N’Zoth. It seemed that Azshara was under his control just as much as she was. She recoiled when Azshara reached forward with the dagger that had previously held Xal’atath, tension building in her shoulders.

Azshara carefully lay the dagger on the table between them, sliding it close to Sylvanas. Sylvanas looked at it curiously, the tension in her shoulders increasing as she thought about how much the dagger had hurt compared to the other tools and weapons that Azshara had used. Everything else had produced a more dull sort of pain, but the dagger had struck her with such a blinding agony that she wondered what made it different, what made it hurt so much.

Lower lip trembling, she found her voice and asked gruffly, “What are you trying to tell me?”

“This is the key,” Azshara said, her voice hushed even though they were alone. “This is what we strike into that Old God’s heart to end him once and for all.”

Sylvanas stared at the blade, taking in how it gleamed brightly, frowning at the bits of her blood that were still caked on it and had not been cleaned off.

This?

This was the key to destroying N’Zoth?

Sylvanas was doubtful. Surely there must be more to it. A simple dagger, even one that had previously held such immense power, could not possibly be the key to killing an Old God...

Could it?

“How?” she found herself asking, her eyes still transfixed.

Azshara breathed deeply and said, “Just the dagger itself would not have been enough. It needed to be... made ready.”

Sylvanas looked up to find Azshara gulping hard. She narrowed her eyes, unmoved. “Explain.”

“Undead and Old Gods are generally in opposition to one another. He should not have been able to corrupt you, but... I suppose there are differences to being simply undead as opposed to being a banshee. It’s not something I can explain, but I do know that only _you_ could power this blade.”

Sylvanas sat in stunned silence, processing what Azshara had told her. She should not have been able to be affected by N’Zoth’s influence, but she also was the only one who could somehow imbue the blade with power? None of it made sense.

“I... experimented... on other undead,” Azshara continued as Sylvanas scooted back from the table. Before she could stand, however, Azshara added hastily, “They did not experience any lasting harm, I assure you. It only required a single cut and it was easy to see that they were not the ones the dagger needed.”

Sylvanas licked her lips, anger filling her. Even if her people were unharmed, Azshara conducting tests on them made her want to scream, made her want to kill this woman sitting so calmly before her.

“I... waited to test it on you because of how easily N’Zoth was able to invade your mind.” Sylvanas grimaced as Azshara pressed on. “I didn’t think you would be able to power it, since you were unable to resist him, but then I realized... _that_ was exactly why you were able to power it.”

Sylvanas did not respond, her thoughts filled with guilt and shame that she had been so weak, weak enough to allow an Old God to control her. She almost missed what Azshara said next, so wrapped up was she in her own perceived failings.

“It worked because he forged a connection to you, left a bit of himself in your head, and the dagger fed off his energy, filling it with the combined essence of both of you.”

Sylvanas swallowed her emotions as she asked, “Why me? Why not anyone else, undead or not? What makes me different?”

Azshara gave her what Sylvanas thought was a patient look. “It’s possible others could have worked, if he had controlled them as he had you, but you were already available, since you and I made our pact.” Sylvanas’ lips were thin and Azshara sighed as she said, “Our pact still stands, which is why I’m telling you all this. N’Zoth is a true horror that needs to be vanquished. The dagger holds the power to do so. With your combined energies, we can turn his own power against him with the might of yours and plunge the dagger into his body, freeing us from him.”

Sylvanas stared at the dagger again, trying to comprehend everything Azshara had said. It seemed absolutely crazy, it seemed like it would never work. But perhaps, the insanity of it all was exactly why it _would_ work. Bringing a hand up, Sylvanas tentatively reached out and touched the blade with her fingertips, pulling back in an instant when just merely placing her hand on it produced nearly the same pain as being sliced with it. Her eyes snapped to Azshara in confusion.

“I know,” Azshara said, her voice sympathetic. “It’s tied to the both of you, that’s why it’s painful just to even touch it, let alone be cut with it so it could absorb some of your being. I’m sorry.”

Sylvanas stiffened at the naga queen’s tone. She had been making Sylvanas suffer for months on end and now she was suddenly being almost kind? It took everything Sylvanas had not to fly across the table and strangle Azshara with her bare hands. Rage flowed through her, the feeling of betrayal from when they had first met and agreed to work together—seemingly shattered though Azshara was now insisting otherwise—many, many months ago felt fresh again.

“How _dare_ you.” Sylvanas’ voice was low and dangerous and she almost did not recognize it as her own. She stood, grasping the dagger in her hand and pointing it at Azshara, clenching her free hand into a fist, trying like hell to ignore the pain shooting through her body.

Azshara stayed seated, but Sylvanas saw fear in her eyes, saw her shoulders begin to shake. Azshara had her gaze fixed on the dagger, shrinking back when Sylvanas leaned closer. She sneered at the naga queen, spurred on by how clearly afraid Azshara was of the weapon she wielded. The woman before her was powerful, it would take something incredibly strong to bring her down, clearly...

Something like a dagger imbued with the essence of an Old God and a banshee...

Sylvanas considered, then set down the dagger, watching relief flood through Azshara. She sat back down, realizing she needed more information. She was extremely hesitant to believe anything this woman said, but it also seemed as though she did not have much of a choice. “How does this work, then? I confront N’Zoth and stab him with this?”

Azshara nodded. “Yes. Plunge it into him and he will perish.”

Sylvanas tilted her head and inquired, “If it’s as simple as you describe, why haven’t _you_ done it?”

“I can’t,” she explained, “it requires the wielder to be connected to N’Zoth.”

“Does he not control you as well? You’ve been torturing me for months and only now, when we have a free moment from his eyes, are you sharing this information with me. Surely it’s because he was forcing you into this, and not because you simply enjoyed hurting me?” Sylvanas nearly broke on the last two words, but she forced herself to remain strong. She would not lose the upper hand she had currently.

Azshara met her gaze and Sylvanas saw... guilt mixed with sorrow. “I did not enjoy what I did. I did it because N’Zoth would have killed not only both of us, but everyone else as well.”

Sylvanas was unconvinced. “I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t have to,” Azshara all but snapped. “I’ve told you what you need to know, I’ve explained my reasoning. He has just as much of a hold on me as he does you. We’re both his prisoners. Take him out. _End this_.”

Sylvanas brushed her fingers over the dagger again, ignoring the pain. She stood once more, grasping the dagger and slipping it into a sheath on her belt. She locked eyes with Azshara, who gave her a stiff nod.

Sylvanas walked around the table, towards the stairs. She stopped and looked over her shoulder, finding Azshara standing from her chair, breathing deeply, her hands pressed to the table as she seemingly tried to recover from their conversation and prepare for the forthcoming defeat of N’Zoth. Sylvanas felt a slight pang of sympathy for the naga queen, but Azshara was not without fault. She had betrayed many over the years to further her own agenda, and had thrown in her lot with an Old God, a move that had only brought pain and suffering to even more.

It hurt to think about what Azshara had done. She may have presented herself as an ally, and she may have shared vital information, but she did not deserve to go unpunished.

Her voice thick, Sylvanas asked a final question, “Where will I find N’Zoth?”

“Ny’alotha, most likely, if he does not return here.” She withdrew a vial from a pocket and set it on the table. “Take this before you leave. It will allow you instant access to Ny’alotha. Drink a sip to enter and a sip to leave.”

“Thank you.”

Sylvanas spun on her heel, walking quickly but silently towards Azshara. Something had changed within her, she felt as though she was experiencing an awakening, and she strode over to the naga queen with a renewed sense of purpose. She swiftly drew the dagger from its sheath and wrapped her free hand around Azshara’s throat as she thrust the weapon into the woman’s back, piercing all the way through her heart, the tip of the blade poking out of her chest.

Azshara gasped and wheezed, blood gushing from her, staining the rich fabric of her clothes. Sylvanas held her upright as she barely clung to life, spitting blood all over the table and floor. When she was nearly gone, Sylvanas set her on the chair, gingerly withdrawing the dagger. She was about to walk away when she heard laughter coming from the naga queen.

“I knew you would kill me,” Azshara said, coughing. “You’re predictable. But that’s not a bad thing, because I know you’ll kill N’Zoth, and I’ll still have won...”

With a final spat of blood, the light went out in Azshara’s eyes and Sylvanas cleaned the glowing dagger on plush, stained robes. Azshara’s lifeless body fell helplessly forward onto the table, her head smacking into it with a harsh crack.

Sylvanas thought she would feel better ending Azshara’s life and her reign, but she only felt empty. There was still work to be done. Her torment in the cellar may have been over, but with N’Zoth still in play in Ny’alotha, it was really only beginning. She gave Azshara one last look and turned to head up the stairs.

She reached the top of the stairs, turning the vial over and over in her hands. Helya’s army was not yet ready, not yet prepared to take on the Black Empire. She looked at the vial, considering her options. She could attempt to take the army to Ny’alotha, even as unprepared as it was, and potentially win against N’Zoth... or lose everything.

Her other option was to go it alone. Azshara had said stabbing him with the imbued dagger would kill him... surely she could handle that. Surely she could handle N’Zoth and Ny’alotha alone, not risking losing the army. She gripped the vial tightly and closed her eyes.

She was going to Ny’alotha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for making it through this chapter. Hopefully everything made sense and works well, as this was definitely a struggle to write, for multiple reasons. There’s more angst coming up, but not remotely on this level, and it’ll be peppered with some fluff and sweet stuff that I think you guys will like.
> 
> Again, this is absolutely Sylvaina as the tags state. Just some obstacles before we get there. It’s coming though, probably sooner than you might think...
> 
> And because I imagine you guys will ask and it’s something I’m happy to spoil, no, there’s no more Nathvanas or Sylvthanos or whatever you want to call it after this, lmao. It’ll be referenced, but this is it, so you all can breathe easy. <333


	5. “It’s Such an Odd Thing, Isn’t It?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, full disclosure, this chapter was a looooot longer (ahem, 9k words), so I combed it for a shorter, natural end point and found one around roughly 3k.
> 
> But, there’s a juicy conversation between Jaina and Sylvanas here (with much, much more to come) and you guys get another quick update, so it’s win-win really. Also, my birthday is Tuesday and I’ll likely have the next chapter up then as well.
> 
> In any case, enjoy this bit. Should be slightly less angsty than the previous chapter, lmao. Thanks for reading and thanks for the feedback!

Jaina returned to Proudmoore Keep not long after her talk with Vereesa. Thalyssra returned to Suramar and the pair had agreed to meet up at the Chamber of Heart the following morning. Jaina woke up early, before the sun, her sleep marred by terrible dreams. She imagined Sylvanas in the clutches of N’Zoth and Azshara, unable to get away.

She awoke in a cold sweat, panting heavily, her heart pounding. She threw back the covers and dressed quickly, teleporting near the Spire. She knew she should have gone back to the Chamber of Heart first, met with Thalyssra, and picked up the concoctions Wrathion and Magni had cooked up. But a sudden feeling came over her that she could not explain, a feeling that told her to head to the Spire as soon as she could.

Her arm where Sylvanas had grabbed her suddenly pulsed and ached and she gasped, wondering if, somehow, they were connected. She did not know if such a thing was possible, and she imagined it was coincidence, but she still felt _something_, and she knew she had to help.

She approached the Spire cautiously, once again checking for guards and traps and finding none. She headed up the stairs and gasped, staggering back when she saw that the door was open. Frantic thoughts raced through her mind: was Sylvanas still here? Was the magic broken? Had Sylvanas broken the magic? Had she escaped? Were N’Zoth or Azshara here?

Was Sylvanas even still alive?

Jaina whirled around when she heard a loud cry and the sound of someone falling on stone steps.

Sylvanas.

She looked like death. Her armor was torn, the leathers and metal pieces ripped, revealing blueish purple skin bearing cuts and deep wounds, blood cascading down, staining her leggings. Jaina stared, dumbstruck, as the banshee weakly tried to crawl up the stairs to the Spire. Jaina was frozen, unable to react. She watched in horror as Sylvanas tried to pull her broken body forward, jumping at the sound of a blade clattering down the steps.

She took a deep, steadying breath and forced herself to move, rushing over to Sylvanas and dropping to her knees at the banshee’s side. Sylvanas looked up at her through cloudy red eyes, her body shaking. Jaina opened her mouth to say something as Sylvanas’ head dropped onto her shoulder, the banshee’s eyes closing out of what Jaina recognized as pure exhaustion.

Jaina tentatively wrapped trembling arms around Sylvanas, cradling the banshee as she lay against her chest. She thought she heard a quiet sob in Sylvanas’ throat as the banshee curled up almost in a ball. She stroked surprisingly soft, silvery blonde hair, instinctively holding Sylvanas tighter, rocking her gently, ignoring the blood that dripped from the wounds all over Sylvanas’ body onto her corset and leggings.

She closed her eyes as Sylvanas huddled closer to her and she pondered the nature of the interaction between them. Holding a badly injured, profusely bleeding woman, a woman with whom she had had limited interaction over the years, did not feel as odd as it likely should have. She shivered at the thought and the chill in the air and radiating from the banshee.

Jaina wondered what had happened, wondered who had hurt her, wondered where she had even come from, appearing as she had, as if from nowhere. She did not ask, she _could_ not ask. Not now. Later, once Sylvanas had recovered, Jaina would broach the subject. If... she recovered, Jaina thought. What sort of magic could heal a banshee? Should she be taking Sylvanas somewhere to be healed? She did not know, but the way Sylvanas lay in her arms, not saying anything, not asking to be taken anywhere, told her that perhaps outside help would not be of use.

Her eyes still closed, she breathed evenly, realizing that the banshee had stilled against her. Fear washed over her and she quickly opened her eyes to look at Sylvanas, utterly terrified that she may have perished.

She settled down after a few moments, realizing that Sylvanas had seemingly fallen asleep in her arms. Taking a shuddering breath as her nerves slowly calmed, Jaina closed her eyes again and drifted off, holding Sylvanas as if her very existence depended on it.

***

She was not certain how long they remained on the steps, the two of them asleep, but she was acutely aware of Sylvanas standing and leaving her arms and she stood as well, nervously brushing off her clothes. The banshee plucked the dagger from where it had fallen on the steps and Jaina saw her wince as she slid it into a sheath on her belt. She walked up the remaining stairs and stood at the balcony, where they had talked previously. She said nothing, but Jaina caught a glimpse of her profile and noted her grim expression mixed with clear frustration.

Jaina walked over and stood with her, the two of them looking out over the land, the sun only now rising. No words were exchanged for some time, not until Sylvanas turned to leave and Jaina, against her better judgment, called after her.

“Where are you going?”

“To finish this.” Her voice sounded weak and Jaina noted that her legs looked unsteady and her steps were cautious and deliberate.

“Are you insane?” Jaina asked harshly, reaching her in two long strides. “Look at you. You can hardly stand and you’re—“ She was about to say Sylvanas was bleeding, but a quick look up and down the banshee’s body revealed smooth, unmarred skin and Jaina stared, swallowing her confusion.

“I heal quickly,” Sylvanas said, by way of explanation, her voice sounding almost dismissive to Jaina’s ears.

“Do you?” Jaina spat suddenly. “The wounds may be gone, but you’re barely able to walk.”

Sylvanas frowned. “I need to strike again before anything else happens.”

Jaina’s brow furrowed as she asked, “Like what?”

Her voice bitter, Sylvanas said, “Like getting carted off to the Stockades, for all that I’ve done.”

Jaina looked away briefly, thinking about what Vereesa and Thalyssra firmly believed, what she was also beginning to believe. “Do you deserve to be?” she asked, her voice hushed.

Sylvanas paused, then opened the door to the Spire and walked inside. “I want to show you something, if you’ll allow me.”

Jaina exhaled her annoyance, but she followed, walking next to the banshee as she tugged open the cellar door and began carefully making her way down the steps. She leaned heavily against the wall for support and Jaina could see that she was close to losing her balance. They descended the stairs, Jaina watching Sylvanas closely, wondering what she could possibly want to show her, when the unmistakable smell of death assaulted her nose. She gasped, watching Sylvanas tense in front of her, pausing on the stairs.

Almost as if nothing had happened, Sylvanas resumed walking down into the cellar. The two reached the bottom and Jaina held up a hand, fire dancing on her palm so she could see in the darkness. Before her was a table with two chairs, a body slumped over the table. She walked closer, her steps slow and cautious. Thoughts raced through her mind as to who could possibly be dead, but given that she had heard nothing about anything happening to anyone she knew personally, she figured Sylvanas must have killed a common enemy... or perhaps, one of her own people.

The chair and table were still mostly shrouded in darkness as she approached and she lifted her trembling hand to cast light over it. What she saw made her stumble back in shock, her heart hammering in her chest as she struggled to breathe.

Azshara.

_Azshara_, dead in the cellar of Sylvanas’ old home. Jaina kept backing away, stepping with a jolt against the solid, unmoving form of Sylvanas herself. The banshee did not push her away, merely pointed to the wall in the very back of the room, where Jaina could faintly make out multiple shackles at roughly shoulder and ankle height.

She froze.

What had happened here? She realized she already knew. It made sense, given how Sylvanas had acted when she and Thalyssra had found her at the Spire. Something had been going on then, but neither of them had been able to figure it out.

Torture.

Jaina sank to her knees and felt Sylvanas kneel next to her.

“I spent months here,” Sylvanas said, her voice thick. “N’Zoth tortured my mind and Azshara tortured my body. Everything that happened by my hand was the direct result of me being forced to do so. Calia. My people. Teldrassil. Your brother. Zelling. Baine. Saurfang.”

Jaina shook her head vigorously. She did not want to believe it, but she knew it had to be true. What other explanation was there? If Sylvanas had wanted everyone dead, she could have killed them many times over. Beside her, Sylvanas was speaking again, going into more detail, explaining each action bit by bit. She told Jaina each sequence of events, all of her actions, including killing Azshara and drinking the potion the naga queen had given her to journey directly to Ny’alotha to try to vanquish N’Zoth using the dagger of Xal’atath. Jaina let her head drop to her hands as her legs slipped out from under her in shock and she sat leaning against the stairs.

Sylvanas leaned closer, her voice steady but full of emotion, finally sharing everything she went through, how Azshara had used a myriad of tools at her disposal, including the dagger that Sylvanas pressed gently into Jaina’s palm, still caked with ichor. Jaina noted that Sylvanas seemed to be in pain when she held the dagger, but she did not ask about it, as her head was already spinning with everything else. She was barely comprehending what Sylvanas was telling her, so focused was she on the torture. She pictured the banshee in her mind, shackled to the wall, body cut and sliced into, bleeding all over her armor, then healing as Azshara used her magic to clean her armor and skin.

She could not understand how Sylvanas had managed to overcome what she had, to destroy one of her captors and tormentors, and still seem... okay. The banshee had seemingly pushed aside everything that had happened to focus solely on eliminating two threats that the Horde and Alliance had not even been able to find.

Jaina felt sick.

What if they had been able to find her sooner? What if they had been able to help her and prevent so many of the other events that had happened? Sylvanas had been alone, save for Nathanos, and from what she had shared, she could not even tell _him_ what was happening, only that she had a plan from a deal she had made with Helya.

Sylvanas was still speaking, telling Jaina even more than she had expected to learn.

“I was unable to tell Nathanos what was happening to me. I could only tell him to trust me and to check in on a plan that had been in place for some time before N’Zoth took over my mind.”

She paused and Jaina felt her stiffen. Sylvanas, too, had taken a seat against the stairs, leaning against Jaina. Jaina looked at her, finding her usually glowing red eyes rather dim, her expression unreadable. Jaina surmised that Sylvanas was considering how much more to reveal, though it seemed to Jaina that she had already revealed just about everything. When Sylvanas began to speak again, Jaina realized there was still more to the story.

“Nathanos... was my rock,” she whispered. “He’s... loved... me for some time.” Her voice was quiet and considerate and Jaina’s gaze stayed on Sylvanas’ profile. She was alternately intrigued and afraid to learn more about the nature of the relationship between the former ranger-general and ranger lord. “He... provided comfort that helped me, even as I was nearly breaking.”

Jaina saw dark tears leak from Sylvanas’ eyes and she found herself inching closer to the banshee, their shoulders brushing. She thought she felt Sylvanas move closer as well and she wondered if the banshee was finding a different sort of comfort in revealing deep, dark secrets to a relative stranger.

She was afraid to say anything, to potentially interrupt Sylvanas, but the banshee had stopped speaking for a solid minute and was looking towards the lifeless body of the naga queen. Collecting her thoughts, Jaina whispered, “Where’s Nathanos now?”

“Stormheim,” Sylvanas said after a moment. “I sent him to check in on how my plan with Helya is proceeding. He left before Azshara gave me the dagger, before she told me my destiny, as it were.” Jaina nodded and Sylvanas continued, “We spent the morning together.” Her voice was soft and almost warm and Jaina felt as though she was intruding on private thoughts, despite the fact that Sylvanas was willingly sharing this information with her.

“He’s important to you,” Jaina murmured, trying to catch Sylvanas’ gaze. The banshee looked at her and nodded just a little.

“He loves me,” Sylvanas said for a second time, “but... I don’t believe I feel as he does.”

Jaina sighed deeply, briefly looking down at her clothes, stained with Sylvanas’ blood. She felt Sylvanas follow her gaze, sucking in a breath when the banshee’s hand ghosted over her corset, fingers coming away with nearly dried blood. They both looked at Sylvanas’ fingers, then Jaina turned to look at Sylvanas, who seemed lost in thought.

“It’s such an odd thing, isn’t it?” Sylvanas murmured.

“What?” Jaina asked, peering at her, watching as she smirked slightly.

“Life.”

She said it so quietly that Jaina almost did not hear her. A chill went through Jaina as Sylvanas swiped more blood off her corset. “What do you mean?”

Sylvanas met her gaze and explained, “It’s fragile and delicate and it can be snuffed out in an instant.” She gestured towards Azshara and then to the dagger still in Jaina’s palm. “But it can also exist within, or be drawn out where you least expect it.” Jaina looked down at the dagger in her hand as Sylvanas continued, “You can experience the joy of it when you’re at your lowest point. Experience it with someone who cares, someone who gives your existence meaning, even for a short time.”

Jaina swallowed. Sylvanas was talking about Nathanos again, it seemed. Talking about the “comfort” he had given her. Jaina realized with a jolt that she had not felt such comfort in a long time. She and Thalyssra had become fast friends, but their kiss had been just a drunken moment that had made them realize they were better off as friends.

Kalec had been the last person with whom she had been intimate, with whom she had experienced the feeling of comfort, of life having a deeper meaning beyond the norm. She longed for that feeling again, longed to feel that she was not alone. She knew it was ridiculous. Her life had meaning beyond being with someone, she knew that. She had accomplished much on her own, she had grown as a person on her own. She was proud of herself for having changed so much for the better, but she still wanted someone at her side... she wanted a partner.

Her lower lip trembled and she began to feel unexpectedly emotional. Fighting against the lump in her throat, she asked, “Does Nathanos do that for you? Even if you don’t love him?”

“Temporarily, yes,” Sylvanas said. “Generally speaking, no. I’m alone.”

It was such a startling admission, one that Jaina did not expect to hear from Sylvanas.

“I’m alone, too,” Jaina whispered, surprising herself. She had not expected Sylvanas to share what she had, to share so much with someone who was a stranger at best. She also did not expect to share anything about herself with Sylvanas, did not expect to admit such a big weakness. There was something about Sylvanas, though, something that made her feel safe and secure, something that made her feel... decidedly less alone.

They sat in silence for some time, Sylvanas rubbing the blood on her hand onto her leathers, and Jaina saw her frowning at the light stains that remained on her fingers. “What’s next?” Jaina inquired gently, though Sylvanas had already told her. She wanted to see if the banshee would recognize that she was weak and needed to recover before doing anything else.

“I told you,” Sylvanas said, though her tone was patient, “I have to finish this. Azshara lied. There’s more to killing N’Zoth than using the dagger, and I found that out first-hand. I only succeeded in severing his control over my mind, though that will make this considerably easier.”

“Rest first,” Jaina said, as Sylvanas stood on shaky legs.

“I’m fine.”

Jaina stood as well and watched as Sylvanas pulled a vial from a pouch on her belt and uncapped it.

“You’re stubborn. Rest and let me see what Thalyssra and I can come up with about N’Zoth. Wrathion sought us out and he and Magni are working on a way to turn N’Zoth’s power against him. We can formulate a plan before you go back, and when you do, you’ll be armed with more knowledge and you’ll be able to kill him for good.” She was careful not to say that she planned to accompany Sylvanas, perhaps even bring several others along, for fear of pushing the banshee away, pushing her to strike out on her own.

Sylvanas looked at Jaina with what Jaina realized was a wary expression, but she reluctantly nodded. “I’ll rest here for a little while,” she agreed, and Jaina shook her head. “What?”

“Rest at my home. I’ll feel more comfortable if I can keep an eye on you,” Jaina said.

Sylvanas raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you worried I’ll take off?”

“Yes.”

Sylvanas huffed a small laugh and nodded. “Fair.”

Jaina plucked the vial and the cap from Sylvanas and was met with a frown. “I don’t know what this is, but I’m taking it.”

“Azshara gave it to me. One sip brought me to Ny’alotha and another brought me back.”

Jaina nodded in recognition and put the capped vial in a pouch on her own belt. She wondered if it was possible to synthesize more and she hoped it was, but she would worry about that later.

“I want to help,” she whispered, and she saw something change in Sylvanas’ expression. The banshee seemed almost... grateful. It was gone quickly, replaced with a mask of indifference.

“Take me home, then,” Sylvanas said with a slight shrug. “Show me Proudmoore Keep.”

Jaina felt the barest of smiles on her lips and she turned away to hide it, casting a portal home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will probably be up Tuesday. Thanks again for reading!


	6. “Sleep Well”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So true to my word, chapter 6 is here on my birthday, the 26th. I’m cheating a bit because I’m in California and it’s only 8pm, but fuck it! It’s tomorrow in a lot of the world, so here it is.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy, and as always, I thrive on feedback as it influences my writing and lets me know what works and what doesn’t. So, please feel free to leave a comment.

They stepped through to Jaina’s room and Sylvanas immediately began taking in her surroundings, looking about with interest as Jaina watched, tugging off her boots and setting them aside. She walked over to the couch, sitting down tiredly. Sylvanas was still looking around, nodding appreciatively at the accommodations. She disappeared briefly into the bathroom and Jaina heard the water running in the sink. Sylvanas came back out, her hands clean of blood.

“This is a rather lavish guest room,” Sylvanas noted, her arms crossed, one hand under her chin.

Jaina licked her lips and cleared her throat. “It’s not a guest room.” Sylvanas turned to her with an eyebrow raised. “It’s _my_ room.”

“Oh. Well, then...” Jaina sighed gently at the thoughtful look on Sylvanas’ face. “I suppose that makes sense. Shall I take the couch?” She nodded towards where Jaina was seated, a confused look on her face when Jaina shook her head. Sylvanas gestured about the room with her hands. “Where?”

“My bed.”

“Are we to share a bed, then, Lord Admiral?” Jaina frowned at Sylvanas’ smirking, smug face and her sarcastically sweet-sounding voice.

The banshee was certainly correct about having broken free of N’Zoth’s control, it seemed. The Sylvanas Jaina had been previously familiar with was shining through.

“No,” Jaina said firmly. “I said I needed to watch you, remember? I’ll be watching from the couch.”

“You expect me to get any rest knowing you’re staring at me?”

Jaina sighed patiently. “I won’t be staring, I’ll be reading. I’ll just be awake to see if you try to pull anything.”

“You don’t trust me?” Her voice was lilting and she spoke almost in a sing-song fashion, and Jaina might have smiled were she not so frustrated.

“I barely know you,” Jaina told her and Sylvanas nodded her understanding.

“I barely know you as well,” Sylvanas said quietly, “and yet, I shared secrets with you that I’ve never told anyone.” A small smile twisted her lips.

Jaina looked into her eyes, feeling the same. She wanted to expand more on why she felt alone, wanted to share more of how she felt with Sylvanas. She could not explain it, but she felt even more comfortable now than she did at the Spire and she wanted to dive in, sharing things she had told Thalyssra and sharing things she had not told anyone. Instead, she pointed towards her bed.

“Rest.” As Sylvanas pulled back the covers, shuffling off her boots, Jaina realized, somewhat sheepishly, that resting in full armor may not be very comfortable. She stood and walked to a bureau, pulling out a long nightgown. She went to hand it to Sylvanas, who held up a hand, refusing it. Jaina narrowed her eyes.

“I’m fine like this,” Sylvanas insisted, slipping off her cloak and folding it, then placing it at the edge of the bed. She gestured to her ripped leathers. “Blood’s dried as well, I won’t make a mess.”

Frowning, Jaina returned the gown to its drawer and sat back down on the couch, resigned to Sylvanas’ antics. She looked up, a thought occurring to her. “I could clean and mend your armor while you rest.”

Sylvanas shook her head and climbed into bed, sliding under the covers. “I’ll do that myself after I wake.”

Jaina just nodded, not wanting to argue, and picked up a set of notes on the small table next to the couch and began going through them. She was all too aware that Sylvanas was staring at her. “Need something?” she asked, continuing to flip through her notes.

“What are those?”

Jaina looked up then, finding Sylvanas with a curious expression. “Notes that Thalyssra and I made when we were trying to figure out what was going on with you.”

“You’ve been working with her quite a bit, it seems,” Sylvanas said, peering intently at Jaina.

Jaina swallowed, her face warming slightly under Sylvanas’ piercing stare. “We work well together.”

“She’s... quite the woman,” Sylvanas said, and Jaina frowned at her rather pointed tone.

“She’s a good friend,” Jaina insisted, her tone as pointed as the banshee’s. What a bizarre exchange they were having, she found herself thinking. She sighed, shaking her head. They were both exhausted, Sylvanas more so, especially since N’Zoth had only just vacated her mind after being damaged by the dagger of Xal’atath. Neither of them were thinking clearly, Jaina decided. It was probably why Sylvanas had shared so much so willingly, beyond just what would help to redeem her, and why Jaina felt comfortable with her.

Surely that was all it was.

“Are you comfortable?” Jaina asked, dropping her gaze slightly as Sylvanas placed her hands under a pillow.

“It’s a nice bed,” Sylvanas answered. After a moment, she added, “You seem _awfully_ tired.”

Jaina looked up quickly and shook her head. “I’m fine.” Sylvanas smirked and Jaina could tell she was thinking of earlier, when Jaina clearly did not believe that Sylvanas was fine. “Just rest, please. Let me look over notes, let me talk to Thalyssra and Wrathion—“

“Now, how are you going to make certain that I behave, if you’ll be gone to speak with those two?” Jaina opened her mouth to reply as Sylvanas’ smirk grew. “I don’t think you _quite_ thought this through, Proudmoore.”

Jaina gave Sylvanas a smirk of her own as she gestured towards the windowed doors behind her, leading to a small balcony outside her room. “I’m a mage,” Jaina reminded her. “I can teleport instantly and bring them both back here and talk right outside, where I can see you through the windows.” Sylvanas just grunted and closed her eyes, seemingly signaling the end of the conversation. Jaina felt her smirk slip into a soft smile and she whispered, “Sleep well.”

***

Later, Jaina stood on the balcony with Thalyssra and Wrathion, her clothes freshly cleaned of Sylvanas’ blood. Jaina showed him the dagger and he looked at it eagerly, quickly determining that it could be used to truly kill N’Zoth, with a little more preparation.

“I know what we can do to bolster this,” he said, “I just need to talk to Magni and we’ll get to work.”

“Good,” said Jaina, leaning against the balcony railing. “There’s also this.” She produced the vial she had taken earlier from where it had been safely stored on her belt and held it up. “Sylvanas said Azshara gave this to her and that a sip would take you to Ny’alotha and another would bring you back.”

Wrathion reached into a pouch on his own belt and brought out an empty vial. He uncapped it and took the filled vial from Jaina, pouring some of it into the empty one. He capped both and handed the original back to Jaina and tucked away the new one.

“We’ll study its ingredients and see if we can produce more.”

Jaina nodded and sighed tiredly as Thalyssra leaned next to her. “You all right? I didn’t realize you were going to see Sylvanas alone.”

Jaina winced, even though Thalyssra’s tone was concerned, rather than angry. She could not explain why she had felt that she needed to head to the Spire, could not explain the dream or the ache in her arm where Sylvanas had touched her, how it felt as though she needed to go immediately. But, she was relieved that she had gone, and relieved that she had been able to talk with Sylvanas one on one.

“I’m just tired,” she said. “I’m sorry I went alone. I had a feeling I couldn’t shake, so I went. But, I certainly didn’t expect her to come crashing back from Ny’alotha, severely wounded, in body and mind.” She sighed again and continued, “Her physical wounds healed relatively quickly, but she was definitely unsteady on her feet. I’m not sure about her powers, but I know she managed to free herself from N’Zoth’s control. I don’t know how long it’ll be before she’s back to whatever can be considered normal for her.”

“You’re worried about her,” Thalyssra noted with a small smile, nudging her elbow.

“Ladies,” Wrathion interrupted, “I’ll speak with Magni and when we’re ready to head to Ny’alotha, we’ll infuse the dagger.”

He handed it back to Jaina and nodded at both of them, leaping off the balcony and transforming elegantly mid-air, taking flight. Jaina watched him for a few moments over her shoulder, then turned back to address Thalyssra.

“I am,” she admitted. “From what she told me, she was under N’Zoth’s control for some time and was regularly tortured by Azshara. Even though Nathanos is her second-in-command, she could not even reveal to _him_ what she was going through, without putting the world at risk.”

Thalyssra patted her forearm, an understanding look on her face. “You wish you could have helped,” she said. “That’s very _you_.” She flashed Jaina a sweet smile.

Jaina found herself growing upset and frustrated. “Think of what we could have prevented if we had known.”

Thalyssra shook her head, giving Jaina’s arm a soothing stroke. “Focus on the present and the future,” she said, “focus on what we can still change, not what we couldn’t.” She sighed and shook her head and Jaina regarded her with concern. “Since Sylvanas was unsuccessful in killing N’Zoth in her first attack, the Old God has started sending his minions here and all over Azeroth.”

Jaina’s mouth fell open. “_What_?!”

“I was trying to find a good time to tell you. Before Wrathion and I joined you, we’d been speaking with Horde and Alliance leaders alike, because reports had begun to come in that Old God forces were popping up all over the world. We didn’t know why it was happening now, but we planned counterattacks before we all separated. Then, you told us both what Sylvanas had said, and suddenly everything made sense. We’ve suffered a fair amount of losses already, but I believe we can bounce back.”

“She was right, then,” Jaina murmured. “She didn’t tell anyone, but she tried to take him on herself and he retaliated.”

Thalyssra nodded. “At least we’re prepared now. I don’t know if we would have been a few months ago. I think... maybe this has all been for the best.”

Jaina swallowed hard, realizing that Thalyssra was probably right. Despite all the death and destruction, perhaps it all needed to happen, perhaps it was necessary so that they ended up with an idea of what they were up against, as Sylvanas planned behind the scenes with Helya. Jaina wondered why Sylvanas had ventured to Ny’alotha alone, without allies from Helya, unless their plan was not quite ready yet and Sylvanas had just acted out of passion, wanting N’Zoth gone.

“I need to get back,” Thalyssra said. “Tyrande was a fright when we were discussing plans. She wants more focus on Sylvanas.”

“We can’t tell her what we know yet,” Jaina burst out. “She’ll want her imprisoned... or killed... and we won’t get a chance at N’Zoth.”

“I’ll try to steer her away,” Thalyssra said, “but I don’t know how successful I’ll be. She’s suspicious enough already.”

Jaina nodded. “Hopefully Sylvanas will be doing better when she wakes up.”

“You should rest as well, you know.”

“I-I’m all right,” Jaina said as Thalyssra frowned at her. She smiled and patted Thalyssra’s shoulder. “I’ll be fine.”

“Would you like me to talk to Vereesa and Alleria?” Thalyssra asked.

Jaina shook her head. “I can do it, I just... need to find the words...”

Thalyssra smiled. “I can take them aside and give them a short rundown, and you can give them more details later if you like, just so they’re caught up.”

“That... sounds like a good idea, actually,” Jaina said, after considering for a few moments.

Thalyssra nodded and Jaina swept her friend into a hug, closing her eyes as Thalyssra rubbed her back. She was utterly grateful to have a friend like Thalyssra, someone who understood her and even knew what she needed before she did. She kissed the elder mage’s cheek when they separated, then waved as Thalyssra gave her a wink before teleporting away. Looking through the windowed glass of the balcony doors, Jaina saw Sylvanas curled up and seemingly fast asleep. She opened one of the doors and slipped inside, quietly shutting it behind her. She sat back down on the couch, pulling her notes back into her lap, glancing up at Sylvanas as the banshee still slept, her ears comfortably laid back, her lithe frame buried under several blankets.

She looked small and sweet, and Jaina was suddenly overcome once again with the feeling that she needed to protect this woman, to keep her safe from further harm, to help in any way she could, even if it upset others. Her thoughts turned to Tyrande. The night elf leader would never understand any of this. She would see it all as an excuse or a trick. But Jaina knew deep down, somehow, that Sylvanas spoke the truth.

With a last look at the sleeping banshee, Jaina turned back to her notes, wishing and hoping for a happy ending.

***

Jaina suppressed a yawn from the couch, as she looked towards her bed. She was suddenly alert at what she saw: the banshee sitting up slowly and beginning to push back the covers.

“You’re awake.” The words were a soft gasp.

Sylvanas met her gaze, frowning. “Good to know you possess the power of _sight_.”

She stood from the bed, smoothing the leathers of her armor. She put on her cloak and began to tug on her boots as Jaina rose from the couch to walk over to her.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m leaving,” Sylvanas answered simply. She grabbed the vial from where it peeked out just a bit from Jaina’s belt and tucked it away before Jaina could react. “I convalesced, as instructed. Now, I’m going to go back to Ny’alotha to finish this.”

She finished pulling on her boots and began to walk to the closed door of Jaina’s bedroom when she suddenly lost her balance and cried out sharply, falling into Jaina’s outstretched arms. She crumpled to the floor, much as she had earlier, when she had returned from Ny’alotha. Jaina held Sylvanas as the banshee leaned heavily against her chest, watched as Sylvanas dug her gloved nails into her own legs, a clear sign of her frustration. She noted that Sylvanas made no attempt to move, at least for the moment, and she let out a soft sigh of relief. She did not want to have to struggle to keep Sylvanas here, to keep the banshee from possibly injuring herself by trying to take on N’Zoth alone for a second time.

She felt Sylvanas stiffen and then relax in her arms, realizing that she was holding the banshee tighter, needing comfort. She thought she felt Sylvanas lean into her a little more, thought she felt chilled fingers press briefly against her wrist. Whatever she felt was gone in a flash when Sylvanas stood with what Jaina saw as renewed vigor, striding easily towards the door. Jaina scrambled to her feet and pressed herself against the door as Sylvanas made to open it, the banshee’s face mere inches from hers. There was a scoff and a smirk from Sylvanas, but Jaina stood her ground.

“You’re not leaving. You’re still not well.” Jaina’s voice was firm, but not unkind, and she held Sylvanas’ gaze as the banshee stared her down.

“I did what you asked,” Sylvanas purred. “I slept, I feel better, I’m ready.”

“You’re _angry_,” Jaina corrected, as Sylvanas frowned, “that’s not the same thing. You’re not ready for this, certainly not alone.”

“Come with me,” Sylvanas suggested, hands on her hips, “then I won’t be alone.”

“Gladly,” Jaina said, and she nearly smirked at Sylvanas’ surprised expression. “I will absolutely go with you to take down N’Zoth, but only when you’re ready and we have a clear plan, and not a moment sooner.”

Sylvanas narrowed her eyes and Jaina held firm. “And when, exactly, do you think that I will ever be ready?”

Jaina looked into brooding red eyes, feeling those eyes searching hers, looking for an answer she did not have. Sylvanas reached for the door handle, her fingers brushing Jaina’s hip. Jaina suddenly found herself wondering why Sylvanas did not just use her banshee powers to slip out the window and disappear in a puff of smoke. Her mouth dropped open slightly, realizing that Sylvanas must not yet be strong enough to command her powers.

“You’re a banshee,” she whispered and she thought she saw Sylvanas wince. “You could head out that window right now and just be gone.” She poked Sylvanas in the chest, earning her a growl. “So why don’t you do it? Why do you need to walk out the door?” Sylvanas growled again and Jaina pointed to the vial. “You have the vial, but not the dagger. Exactly how do you plan on killing N’Zoth without it?”

Sylvanas said nothing for a solid half-minute, looking down and then back up into Jaina’s eyes, her mouth set in a deep frown, seemingly defeated. Jaina reached up, laying gentle hands on Sylvanas’ shoulders, softening considerably.

“Come on,” she said gently, “get some more rest. Get your energy back. Once you do, we can—“

Sylvanas grabbed her around the waist then, flinging her towards the bed. Jaina gasped as she landed on her mattress, entirely unharmed but absolutely in shock. She blinked to the door before Sylvanas could open it, turning Sylvanas and pressing her back roughly against it, securely pinning her wrists in place. They were both standing close, Jaina panting and fully prepared for a true fight, if one was coming.

A fight never came.

Sylvanas backed down, leaning limply against the door as Jaina released her wrists. Still panting softly, Jaina leaned forward, pressing her hands to the door, near Sylvanas’ shoulders. She heard a soft huff of a laugh from the banshee and she looked up into fiery red eyes, finally catching her breath.

“You’re determined,” Sylvanas said, and Jaina saw a faint smile on the banshee’s lips.

“I always am,” Jaina muttered, as Sylvanas merely chuckled. She began to feel a bit dizzy, not having slept in favor of ensuring that Sylvanas did. Her bed was close... she wanted to crawl into it and hide under the covers, curling up and falling fast asleep. She had a job to do, however, and that job was ensuring that Sylvanas recovered enough of her strength to be able to face N’Zoth again and walk away victorious. Jaina swayed on her feet, allowing Sylvanas to grasp her forearms and hold her steady.

“When’s the last time you slept, Proudmoore?” Her voice was soft and gentle, her eyes kind and sweet, and Jaina closed her eyes and nearly fell asleep on the spot. “Come on,” came the coaxing voice.

“No,” Jaina protested as Sylvanas began to lead her to her bed. “No, if I sleep, I won’t be able to keep an eye on you and I need to—“

“Proudmoore—“

“No, no, I—“

“_Proudmoore_—“

“No!”

“_Jaina_.”

Jaina’s eyes snapped open and she looked up into Sylvanas’ smirking face. Words eluded her, both from shock and exhaustion. She stared, lips parted, into Sylvanas’ eyes.

“Well, _that_ got your attention...” Sylvanas’ voice sounded annoyingly amused and Jaina grimaced, upset. “I think I’ll file that tidbit away for safekeeping...”

Eager to change the subject, Jaina reiterated, “If I sleep, you’ll leave as soon as I close my eyes.”

“What if I promise you I won’t?”

Jaina just sighed and threw up her hands. She walked over to her bureau and withdrew two nightgowns. She turned back and tossed one at Sylvanas, who caught it. She was done with Sylvanas’ antics. She pointed towards the bathroom and ordered, “Change,” as she turned back around and began to undress.

She heard the thumping sound of Sylvanas’ boots and the click of the bathroom door closing and she heaved a deep sigh, removing her corset and her leggings and slipping into the soft nightgown. She looked to the bathroom, hearing the sound of metal and leather being removed and she allowed herself a faint smile as she climbed into bed on the far left side, facing the middle of the bed and the bathroom door. She reached up and unraveled her braid, her eyelids feeling heavier and heavier the longer she watched the door. She could still hear metal and leather scraping and she wondered if Sylvanas’ armor was much more intricate to remove than it looked.

She finally gave in to her drooping eyelids and closed them, tugging her blankets to her chin. She poked a finger out from under the covers and pointed it at the fireplace, instantly igniting the logs. The room began to fill with a pleasant warmth and she snuggled completely under her blankets as the bathroom door finally opened. She opened her eyes to find Sylvanas cautiously wandering over to the bed, then making a move for the couch.

“Sylvanas...” she yawned tiredly, and the woman in question stopped and looked at her, one tall eyebrow raised. “The couch... isn’t that comfortable... at least for sleeping.”

Sylvanas smirked and crawled into bed, slipping under the covers. She glanced towards the fireplace and then looked at Jaina, huddled under the covers and shivering faintly. “I take it it’s cold in here,” she said, an amused look on her face. “Wish I could feel it.”

Jaina watched as her eyes drifted down, absently staring at a random patch on one of the blankets. Her voice was full of barely-concealed sorrow and Jaina felt sympathetic. This was the second time a monster had controlled her, forced her to commit horrifying acts in his name. She found herself wondering what Sylvanas had been like before Arthas had killed her, what kind of woman she had been. She had only heard stories, only really knew what Vereesa had shared with her over the years.

A soft gasp escaped her lips at the thought of Arthas, and Sylvanas looked up at her, curiosity in her red eyes. Jaina looked down, deciding to keep her thoughts and questions to herself. She slipped her hands under her pillow and closed her eyes again, thoroughly exhausted.

As she was drifting off, she felt a cool hand against her cheek and two soft, whispered words, “Sleep well.”

***

Jaina awoke the next morning feeling a bit better and comfortably warm. She was still snuggled under her blankets, but, surprisingly, the fire was still going. Or, perhaps, it had gone out and had been restarted. She realized the latter was more likely and she sat up when she saw that she was alone in bed. Her gaze went to the fireplace where the banshee was crouched and tending to the logs, ensuring that the fire kept roaring.

“Morning,” said Jaina, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She conjured a mana cake and scarfed it down hungrily, washing it down with a glass of water on her bedside table.

“You talk in your sleep,” Sylvanas said, without preamble. She did not look away from the fireplace.

Jaina gulped hard and opened her mouth to reply, then closed it, reaching a hand to her hair, fiddling with the strands nervously. Her face grew warm and she looked out the window, momentarily afraid to ask what she had said. Swallowing her pride, she turned back to Sylvanas and inquired, “What did I say?”

Sylvanas poked at the fire and said, “‘Arthas.’” She still did not look at Jaina.

“Is that it?” Jaina burst out. She bit her lip hard at her response.

“‘Don’t. Please don’t.’” Jaina could not speak. “‘Don’t hurt her.’” Sylvanas finally looked at her. “Feel like sharing?” she asked gently.

Jaina did not, but she felt as though she needed to do so. For as long as she could remember, she would imagine events and scenes when she dreamed, scenes that did not always include her, scenes that she wished she could change the outcome of, scenes that she wished would turn out differently.

Sometimes, they were events from her own life, but often they were events that she had heard about and imagined herself in, stepping in to save the day, to change the course of history. She had often imagined scenes with Arthas, where she managed to make him stand down, make him change back into the kind and considerate man she had loved deeply.

She had never imagined Sylvanas’ death. She had heard about it, but she could not bring herself to imagine how it happened. Hearing about it was traumatizing enough. Last night, however, had been different. She did not always remember her dreams, but she remembered this one, though she did not recall talking in her sleep.

She had arrived in Quel’Thalas to help lend her aid to the city. Others had joined her, splitting off to help the wounded while she sought out Arthas. It did not take her long to find him. He was on his horse wielding Frostmourne, watching as Sylvanas tried desperately to cut down throngs of Arthas’ forces. She had shouted at him from a distance and he had frozen before he slowly turned to face her, a sick grin on his face. He called her name, his voice cold and mocking. She shouted at him again and he shook his head at her, turning back to Sylvanas and rushing her at full speed, running her through with his blade.

The scene had ended there, abrupt and with no resolution. The rest of the night had been, mercifully, dreamless. She looked down at her hands, her shoulders trembling with fear. She looked back up at Sylvanas, considering. The banshee was still looking at her, clearly hoping she would divulge the details of her dream, her nightmare. But Jaina could not do it, could not share what had happened. What would it help? It would likely only upset Sylvanas and what would be the point?

Jaina shook her head. “No,” she said solemnly, “no, I don’t.”

“Fair enough.” Sylvanas turned back to the fire, absently poking the logs for another few moments before standing and setting down the fire iron. “Warm enough? Or should I add another log?”

“Warm enough,” Jaina said as Sylvanas moved to one of several bookcases in the room. She watched as the banshee ran careful fingers over the spines before selecting a well-worn tome on teleportation magic that Jaina had read through many times. She looked away when she saw Sylvanas turn, and out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Sylvanas seemed to consider where to sit and read. Ultimately, the banshee chose the couch and Jaina felt a bit bereft. Her brow furrowing, she settled back into bed, facing Sylvanas as the banshee tucked herself against one of the arms and settled in to read. She was still wearing Jaina’s nightgown and, judging by how she had curled up on the couch to do some decidedly not light reading, Jaina figured Sylvanas was resigned to wait for her to say when they would be ready to leave, to face N’Zoth and whatever horrors he had in store for them.

She rested her hands under her pillow, still watching Sylvanas as the banshee thoroughly read each page and took special care when turning to the next. Her eyelids felt heavy as they had the previous night and she wondered if her dreams had left her restless and she had not actually gotten much sleep at all. She frowned and sighed and Sylvanas took notice, looking up from the book.

“I’m fine,” Jaina mumbled, before Sylvanas could ask. The banshee just nodded, but Jaina saw uncertainty in her eyes. “Just a bit tired still, I guess,” she added.

“Sleep,” Sylvanas whispered kindly. “I’ll keep watch.”

There was a smirk on her lips and Jaina would have protested had she not been fully ready to fall asleep again. Instead, she closed her eyes and nodded into her pillow, drifting off to the soft, lilting sound of Sylvanas whispering something surprisingly sweet and comforting in Thalassian.

***

Jaina awoke to loud, repetitive knocks on her door. She sat up with a start, gasping softly. Sylvanas was seated on the couch, the book from earlier in her hands, but she had read nearly all of it now. She slipped a small piece of paper into the book to mark her place, then closed it.

“Sleep well?” Sylvanas was smiling enough to reveal her fangs and Jaina found herself a bit unsettled. She nodded as Sylvanas stood up. “Good. Judging by those knocks, I’d say whoever’s out there knows I’m here.” The banshee set the book down on the cushions, tapping it with two fingers, then stood and went to the door.

A chill ran through Jaina as she contemplated what Sylvanas had said. With a jolt, she realized Sylvanas was right. She stood from the bed and watched Sylvanas walk over, noting that sometime while she had been asleep, Sylvanas had dressed again in her armor, her cloak hanging loosely about her shoulders, her hood down. She had mended and cleaned her armor as well. It was not perfect, but it looked better than it had.

Jaina turned to the door, worried about who could be on the other side and what awaited them. She walked to the bathroom and grabbed her robe, slipping it on and folding her arms over her chest. She gave Sylvanas a nod to open the door and the banshee did so, as Jaina’s eyes widened in shock.

“Tyrande, Thalyssra,” she managed. “What—“

“I tried to stop her,” burst out Thalyssra, “I told her the situation was under control, that—“

“Quiet,” said Tyrande, and Jaina looked between both women, thoroughly confounded.

“What’s going on?” she demanded, as Sylvanas leaned casually against the doorframe.

“Isn’t it obvious, Proudmoore?” she said, her tone dry. “Lady Whisperwind’s come to take me away.”

“Yes,” Tyrande confirmed, “to the Stockades, where you’ll await the judgment of your peers.” Jaina watched as she sneered at Sylvanas. “As though you truly have any. You’re not fit to lick the dirt off anyone’s boots, let alone be on the same level with them. You’re a roach to be squished underfoot.”

Sylvanas turned to Jaina and gave her a lopsided smirk that made Jaina shiver. “What an image she conjures,” she whispered.

Jaina was unamused by both women. “Sylvanas is under my watch,” she said firmly. “I’ve spoken with her enough to know her intentions, to know what truly happened and why. I brought her here to convalesce and then we’ll all band together to take down N’Zoth.” She looked at Tyrande, softening. “I realize what you’ve been through, but—“

Tyrande raised a hand to cut her off. “The First Arcanist has already seen to it to inform me of everything the banshee tried to convince you was true.” Jaina withered under the cold stare and the words that followed. “Even if she had not, I would hope you wouldn’t be trying to patronize me about ‘what I’ve been through,’ Lord Admiral.”

Jaina did not reply, but she was silently fuming at Tyrande’s refusal to listen. Tyrande gave her a once over, seemingly taking in her casual attire and silently judging her on not being ready to strike should Sylvanas step out of line. Jaina stared still, not giving Tyrande an inch. She sympathized with the woman, absolutely felt terrible about what had happened. She had been through the same, a Warchief destroying her city, killing her people. But Garrosh was different. Garrosh had acted of his own free will, his desire to rule and conquer.

Sylvanas had acted on someone else’s orders, under someone else’s control. Sylvanas was not bloodthirsty like Garrosh, she did not wish to see the deaths of innocents. The limited time she had spent with Sylvanas, her actions in Ny’alotha, her words, everything about her, had shown Jaina that Sylvanas wished to act with honor and was doing her damnedest to save everyone she could.

She had ventured into Ny’alotha alone, her only companion an empowered dagger, and she had wounded N’Zoth, only to find out that there was more to taking him down than merely striking him with Xal’atath’s dagger. She had, at least, freed herself from N’Zoth’s control, but there was such fear in her still, fear that Jaina could tell she mostly kept hidden, but that bubbled under the surface, threatening to overtake her.

Tyrande spoke then, pulling Jaina from her thoughts, “You’re a _fool_.”

Jaina wanted to reply, to fight back, but what use would it be? Tyrande was still hurt, still reeling from her city and her people being destroyed. She watched as Tyrande clapped Sylvanas in irons and began to lead her away. Sylvanas gave her a kind look, an appreciative one, as Jaina looked away, unable to hold her gaze, nor do much else apart from clench her fists and will herself not to act rashly.

Tyrande’s eyes were black pools of night when Jaina looked at her. There was a hunger in her eyes that terrified Jaina. She was the embodiment of Elune’s greatest warrior and it showed. She wondered exactly what it entailed, what it made Tyrande capable of, what it meant for Azeroth and her people.

She watched as Sylvanas, head held high, but with the slightest bit of tension knitting her shoulders, walked down the hall with Tyrande at her heel.

“You broke free of a tyrant once upon a time,” Jaina heard Tyrande croon in Sylvanas’ ear, “I’m sure you can do it again...”

“I already have,” Sylvanas replied icily.

“Well then, I imagine you’ll be prepared if he _allegedly_ tries to control you once more...”

Jaina bristled, barely noticing that Thalyssra had stepped close to her, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I tried,” the elder mage whispered, “she was suspicious, so I explained what I knew. She wouldn’t see reason.”

Jaina nodded and said, “This doesn’t change anything. We still have a job to do. We still need to prepare to go to Ny’alotha before N’Zoth can fully mobilize.”

Thalyssra chewed on her lip. “There’s a lot to do. We’ve already seen some of the extent of what he’s capable of, even if he’s not with his forces.”

Thalyssra was right, Jaina knew. He had already sent forces throughout Azeroth, forces that the Alliance and Horde were battling back. Wrathion was going to speak with Magni about fully preparing the dagger to be able to vanquish N’Zoth once and for all, but even if Wrathion had said it would not take long, it could still take longer than they had before N’Zoth’s forces truly dug in their heels.

Jaina retrieved the dagger from where she had safely hidden it in a bureau drawer and held it out to Thalyssra. “Take this to Wrathion and Magni. Have them get it ready and then bring it back to me.”

Thalyssra looked nervous and Jaina tried to reassure her with a smile. “Whatever you’re thinking of doing—“

“I’ll be careful, I promise.”

Thalyssra shook her head. “I was going to say, ‘don’t do it,’ but I know you won’t listen, so yes, please be careful.”

Jaina hugged her tight, then pulled back and watched Thalyssra teleport away, dagger in tow. Jaina dressed quickly, pulling her cape tight around her shoulders. Steeling herself, she teleported to Stormwind and prepared for the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tyrande is piiiiiiiissed! :D
> 
> Thanks for reading! I have a lot of editing and such to do before the next chapter will be ready, but I hope to have it up soon.


	7. “If I Can Leave This World Knowing I’ve Done One Thing Right, Then It’s All Worth It, Isn’t It?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the birthday feedback! Absolutely made my day. <333

Jaina landed in Stormwind City, near the castle. Rain was coming down in sheets, pelting her hair and clothes. Raindrops fell down her cheeks, masking the sudden tears that rocked her. She was afraid for Sylvanas’ life, deeply afraid she might lose the banshee. She leaned against a wall, panting, placing a shaky hand over her heart, feeling it pound rapidly beneath her fingers.

She closed her eyes, listening to the sound of the rain, beginning to calm. She wiped her eyes and pulled up her hood, hoping it would not be obvious that she had been crying.

She still barely knew Sylvanas, and yet, the thought of losing her like this, with N’Zoth still in play, made her feel an emotional pain the likes of which she had not felt since Theramore. There was something about Sylvanas, something that made her want to know the woman, something that made her wish she had been able to get to know her sooner. She was enigmatic and sarcastic and deeply frustrating at times, but she was also heroic and caring and thoughtful and Jaina found herself entirely drawn to her, wanting to know her more.

Sylvanas did not deserve to go to the Stockades, did not deserve to rot in a cell or be executed. There had been so much death and destruction over the years, blood was on everyone’s hands. Sylvanas may have had more, but most of it was due to N’Zoth, and singling her out when no one was innocent was entirely unfair.

Jaina felt her sorrow leave her, replaced with anger, and she clenched her fists. She forced herself to stay calm, forced herself to keep a level head. She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, then steeled herself as she entered the castle and made her way to the throne room.

“Jaina!” The throne room was full, but Vereesa addressed Jaina first, running to her and throwing her arms around her. Vereesa sobbed into her neck and Jaina closed her eyes, holding the youngest Windrunner sister tight, trying to stay strong for the two of them. It was difficult, even more so because Alleria, her eyes just slightly wet—likely out of sympathy for Vereesa rather than Sylvanas—wandered over and placed gentle hands on both of their shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Jaina,” Anduin spoke up from near the throne, as Genn growled next to him. “Thalyssra tried to explain what was happening, but it sounded far-fetched.”

“‘Far-fetched’?” Jaina nearly spat, pulling back from Vereesa. Her hands were clenched into fists once more and she was dimly aware that Vereesa was trying to unfurl one, as the woman clung to her arm. “‘_Far-fetched_’? Anduin, with everything we’ve seen over the years, all of the seemingly crazy things, including Ebonhorn under N’Zoth’s control, including my brother being brainwashed...” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “Including Arthas...” Her voice nearly broke and she felt Vereesa hold her arm tighter, finally making her release her fist to be able to hold her hand. “How can you say _anything_ sounds ‘far-fetched’ anymore?”

Anduin looked away and Jaina saw Genn bristle next to him. She had barely registered that Malfurion was also present, so focused was she on Anduin and his words. Tyrande was likely still escorting Sylvanas, ensuring that she made it to—and stayed in—her cell in the Stockades.

“I’m sorry, Auntie,” Anduin repeated gently. “Tyrande and Malfurion had their home and their people destroyed, and I—“

Jaina squeezed Vereesa’s hand for support, her body humming with pure arcane energy, her eyes blazing blue-white. Anduin was shaking his head, clearly realizing he had said the absolute worst thing he could have possibly said. Even Malfurion put a hand on Anduin’s shoulder, shaking his own head faintly.

“We went through the same,” Malfurion said, addressing Jaina. “No one’s tragedy is worse.”

Jaina looked at Malfurion, taking in what he had said. The archdruid seemed reasonable, certainly more so than his wife. It provided little comfort, but it was still helpful to hear his thoughts.

“What the King _meant_ to say,” began Genn, and Jaina turned to stare at him, almost willing him to say something worse than Anduin had, “is that Windrunner, regardless of her alleged state, committed crimes for which she cannot be forgiven, and that _everyone_ has suffered for it. She will be tried and dealt with accordingly.”

“Stopping N’Zoth is the most important thing,” Jaina hissed, “nothing else matters.”

“Yes, well, we don’t need her to do that,” Genn said confidently. “We’re plenty prepared to—“

“His forces have been _decimating_ ours,” Jaina said harshly, “or have you not been paying attention?”

“I have,” Genn replied easily, “but have _you_? Who is it that we have to _thank_ for these forces descending upon us?”

Jaina was trembling, even as Vereesa stroked her arm and held her hand securely, and she whispered, “At least she went after him, made an attempt to save the world.” Her voice rough, she said, “She’s done more than any of us have.”

Genn scoffed. “Proudmoore—“

“No.” She dropped Vereesa’s hand. “I’m done. I’m done with all of you.”

“Jaina—“

Vereesa’s voice sounded broken, her ears were drooped sadly, like a frightened cat, but Jaina still turned on her heel and left. She waved a hand and teleported home, emerging in her room and angrily slamming several books loudly on a table. A few moments later, there was a knock on her door and two voices calling out.

“Jaina? Is everything all right?”

“We heard what happened earlier from Thalyssra, will you talk to us?”

Jaina cursed under her breath. She loved her brother and Calia, but the last thing she wanted to do was speak with the people who were planning to take over the Forsaken in Sylvanas’ stead. Grimacing, she made her way to her door and rested her fingers on the handle, trying to prepare herself. She plastered a neutral expression on her face and opened the door.

“You found Sylvanas and brought her _here_?” Calia dropped any and all pretense and launched immediately into questioning, her tone hushed, but more than a little upset.

“Yes, I did,” Jaina said firmly.

“Knowing what she did?” Derek pressed. “To both Calia and myself?”

“It wasn’t her,” Jaina insisted, and she felt arcane flowing through her again, knew that her eyes were blazing. “N’Zoth had been controlling her for _months_, forcing her to do terrible things that she could not stop, all the while being tortured in her childhood home by Azshara.”

Calia scoffed. “And you believe her? How convenient that everything she did can just be explained away with _mind control_...”

Jaina stared hard at her. “I saw her at Windrunner Spire,” she said slowly, “I saw the shackles on the wall, I saw her come back from Ny’alotha broken and bloody. The woman I saw was not one who was personally responsible for the tragedies that have occurred in the last few months.”

Calia sighed and rubbed her temples. Jaina could see the turmoil in her eyes, the struggle she was facing of whether or not to believe what she had been told. Sighing again, looking exhausted and wary, she asked, “Do you truly think she can be redeemed?”

Jaina nodded, softening and calming a bit. “I do. She was a hero to her people in life and in death. What happened, what she did, it wasn’t her, not at all.”

Calia frowned and said bitterly, “She still killed me, regardless of whether or not she was controlled by someone else. I hope you’ll forgive me if I’m a little hesitant to trust my _killer_.”

“Calia,” Jaina murmured, clasping one of her friend’s hands in both of hers, “I can’t pretend to understand what you experienced, so I’m not going to try. All I’m trying to do is tell you what I saw.” She paused and Calia gave her the slightest of nods to continue. “And what I saw, was a woman who had been tortured in body and mind, who _still_ found the strength to take on those who had harmed her. She killed Azshara and she wounded N’Zoth enough to break free of his power over her and even in a somewhat weakened state, she _still_ wants to go after him, to destroy him for good.”

Calia looked faint and Jaina squeezed her hand as Derek put a steadying arm around her waist and held her near. Jaina looked at him, watched as he kissed Calia’s hair and gave her a sweet look. Despite how caring Derek seemed in the moment, Jaina felt a sudden rush of fear come over her. She and everyone else had seen the extent of the mind control on Sylvanas and what it had wrought. Her brother had been conditioned when Sylvanas was still under N’Zoth’s control and Jaina often found herself wondering just how deep the conditioning was buried.

Could it resurface? Did they have any way of knowing if it could?

Jaina sucked in a shaky breath and Derek turned to look at her. His eyes told her he was thinking what she was, and she opened her mouth to ask just as he began speaking.

“I worry that something similar could happen with me,” he said, his voice quiet and a bit fearful. “I don’t know what I’d do with myself if my conditioning reared its head and I was forced to harm the people I love...” He looked down, shaking his head. “I don’t know if I could live with myself.”

Calia pressed a kiss to his jaw and he looked up to face her, the two of them sharing faint smiles. Jaina felt her cheeks grow warm, felt as though she was intruding on a private moment. She dropped her hands to her sides and stepped back into her room, politely excusing herself, about to close the door.

“Jaina, wait—“ Calia stepped close and pulled Jaina into her arms, patting her back. “I trust you, Jaina. If you believe that Sylvanas is worthy of redemption, then I’ll support it.”

Jaina felt tears prick her eyes as she pulled back, nodding. “Thank you, Calia. I just... I just want N’Zoth gone, I want the threat looming over all of us gone, and I want everyone to find peace.”

Calia chuckled lightly. “You’ve always tried to see the best in people and trust them. It’s... an admirable trait.”

Jaina stiffened a bit, but Calia just smiled and wiped the tears from her cheeks. There almost seemed to be an unspoken next line, perhaps that she was trusting to a fault, but Calia said no more.

“I’m going to go speak with Thalyssra for a little while, I think,” Jaina said. “I’m still rather heated after everything, I need to wind down.”

“Understandable,” said Derek. “Decompress and get some rest, Jaina.”

“I will, and thank you—both of you—for hearing me out. I can’t tell you how much it means to just have you listen.”

“Of course,” Calia said, though her tone sounded a touch sharp to Jaina’s ears. “We’re here for you, always, and we know you’re here for us.”

Jaina chewed on her lip, a chill spreading through her. Something about Calia’s words, something about the way she spoke... Jaina found it all a bit unnerving, but she pushed it aside, understanding Calia’s reservations about Sylvanas. She nodded at both of them and bade them good night, leaning heavily against the doorframe as she watched them disappear down the hall into Derek’s room.

She closed her door and leaned against it. She was still upset, in dire need of calming down. She would head to Meredil and find Thalyssra, perhaps have a drink and a chat, and then... then she would do what Thalyssra had already guessed she would, and go see Sylvanas.

She sighed and let her eyes drift closed, flexing her fingers. She heard the unmistakable sound of a teleport and she opened her eyes, finding Thalyssra outside on her balcony. She smiled as the elder mage let herself in and walked over to stand in front of her, searching her eyes.

“Have you... did you...” Thalyssra trailed off.

Jaina shook her head. “Not yet. I...” She licked her lips and sighed as a slow smile spread across her face. “I need a drink.”

Thalyssra smiled back. “There are still some bottles of wine in Dalaran from the other night... unless you’re after something stronger...”

Jaina shook her head. “Anything stronger than wine will do my head in, I think...”

The pair teleported to Jaina’s quarters and Jaina immediately popped the cork on a bottle and settled in on the couch, drinking deeply. Thalyssra sat next to her, taking the bottle when Jaina offered it.

“Anything you want to talk about?” Thalyssra asked kindly, patting Jaina’s forearm. She took a sip and passed the bottle back.

Jaina took another long drink and swallowed, exhaling loudly. She rested her head on Thalyssra’s shoulder, closing her eyes. “No,” she answered softly, “I just want to relax here for a little while.”

Thalyssra chuckled. “You got it.”

***

A short while later, Jaina stirred, sitting up and grabbing a glass of water on the coffee table and drinking most of it down. She smiled and looked at Thalyssra. “You’re such a good friend,” she whispered.

“I try,” Thalyssra said, returning the smile.

Jaina turned serious, words and thoughts tumbling rapidly out of her mouth. “Vereesa... I just left her in the throne room. I was so angry at everyone and everything because no one would listen and I said I was done. She called after me, but I just left. Tides, she probably hates me...”

“You said you were angry,” Thalyssra reminded her gently. “She’s likely appreciative that you felt so strongly about helping Sylvanas that I can’t imagine she would be upset with you.”

“You think so?” Jaina was unsure, but it sounded plausible and she wanted it to be true.

Thalyssra nodded. “Jaina, I’ve seen how much love Vereesa has for Sylvanas and for you. You have nothing to worry about, I’m sure of it.”

Jaina linked her fingers with Thalyssra’s, holding her hand for comfort and reassurance. “Thank you.”

Thalyssra leaned her cheek against Jaina’s temple. “What are friends for?”

Jaina smiled at her words and the pair sat in a companionable silence for a couple of minutes. Jaina finally looked up, murmuring nervously, “I should get going.”

“Be careful, Jaina,” Thalyssra pleaded, squeezing her hand.

Jaina nodded and stood. “Wish me luck.”

Thalyssra stood as well. “I wish you all the luck in the world.” She kissed both of Jaina’s cheeks as Jaina kissed hers.

With a quick, steadying breath, Jaina winked at her and teleported to the Stormwind Stockades.

Jaina cast an invisibility spell on herself as she made her way through the prison. She shivered at the chill in the air as she slipped unnoticed past several guards, swiping a key off the belt of one of them.

She finally reached Sylvanas’ cell and stood at the door. There was a dampening field nearby specifically designed to prevent her from escaping with her banshee abilities.

Still invisible, Jaina looked upon the woman in the cell. Sylvanas was seated on an old bench with her hands clasped between her knees. She looked resigned to her fate, perhaps even accepting of it. Her ears were flattened, whether in annoyance or fear, Jaina could not discern.

“Who’s there?”

Jaina started at Sylvanas’ voice. It was bitter and cold, devoid of any emotion.

“Reveal yourself. I know someone’s there.”

The banshee sounded like she had given up. She sounded like she was already gone. Jaina gulped, feeling a sharp pain in her chest.

Her heart hurt.

She waved a hand and her invisibility spell was canceled. She walked closer to the cell door, threading her trembling fingers through the bars.

“Jaina?” Sylvanas whispered in disbelief, standing and walking over to the door. She gripped the bars and peered through them, trying to read Jaina’s face in the relative darkness.

“We need to be quiet,” Jaina whispered. “They don’t know I’m here.”

Sylvanas regarded her with a curious, confused expression. “Did you come to say goodbye?” There was a hint of sarcasm in her voice, but her words sounded serious.

Jaina shook her head. She looked at Sylvanas. The banshee looked soft, her voice even carried some emotion in it now. There was sadness in her tone and Jaina looked down, shaking her head again, trying to find her strength.

“I felt something, when I went to the Spire. I woke up out of a nightmare, where you were being held by N’Zoth and Azshara and you couldn’t get away.” Sylvanas looked interested and a bit spooked by Jaina’s words. “My arm hurt where you’d grabbed me, when you told me to take care of Vereesa. I... I just knew that I had to go to you.”

“I left an impression, I suppose,” Sylvanas said, a slight smile on her lips.

“I believe you can save us,” Jaina said. “Wrathion and Magni are working to augment the dagger so that it will kill N’Zoth.”

“I need to be the one to strike him,” Sylvanas said gently, and Jaina looked up. She had not remembered Sylvanas mentioning that before, but perhaps she had missed it, so inundated with information had she been over the last few days. “According to Azshara, he must be struck with the dagger by someone who had been connected with him. It’s why the dagger was so powerful in the first place, his essence mixed with mine and created an incredibly strong weapon.”

Jaina looked down, feeling somewhat defeated. Sylvanas softened, tentatively slipping her fingers through the bars and placing them over Jaina’s. Jaina shivered, whether it was at the chill of Sylvanas’ skin or the intimacy of the touch, she was not certain.

“He’s been sending forces to Azeroth from Ny’alotha,” Jaina said quietly. “Our own have been fighting them, but we’ve lost many, and it’s an uphill battle. N’Zoth needs to die.”

“And I’m stuck here,” Sylvanas said, “unless you can convince Whisperwind of my innocence.” She shook her head, a huff of a laugh on her lips. “Good luck with that...”

“How are you so calm?”

“I worked to have an army ready. I thought I could destroy N’Zoth on my own, so I went without it instead of waiting for the final preparations to be made. At this point, I don’t believe it was a mistake. If I had perished and I had taken my army with me, I may have lost everyone, everything I had worked so hard for. If only I had perished, there may still be a chance, even without my wielding the dagger, to at least push him back.”

Jaina bristled and gripped the cell door, feeling frustrated. Sylvanas seemed so resigned, even if Jaina could tell there was bravado behind it and she was still afraid. Sylvanas calmly rubbed her fingers. They said nothing for some time, then Jaina looked up into Sylvanas’ soft red eyes and asked, just above a whisper, “Do you want to die?”

Sylvanas smiled and shook her head. “Not particularly, but I’ve lived a long time. For better or worse, I’ve left a mark on this world that will be remembered for generations to come.

“This is a long time coming. I made a fair amount of enemies in my time as leader of the Forsaken, and even more as Warchief. Nathanos is with Helya. The two of them command my army, an army that consists of those lost at Teldrassil, amongst many others.”

Jaina gasped at the revelation, but she realized it made sense. Sylvanas had been forced to burn Teldrassil, but through the pact she had previously made with Helya, she had apparently been able to ensure that they did not die in vain, that they would be able to fight the very enemy who had ordered their deaths.

Sylvanas leaned close to the bars, whispering, “If I can leave this world knowing I’ve done one thing right, then it’s all worth it, isn’t it?”

Jaina felt anger building within her. “No,” she said firmly.

“No?” Sylvanas asked curiously.

“No,” Jaina said again, “not when it means going out like this.” She looked down at their hands. Sylvanas’ fingers were still atop hers and she made no attempt to move away.

Leaning close again, Sylvanas whispered, “What are you saying?”

Jaina locked eyes with Sylvanas. “The prisoners seemed restless when I sneaked in. Several guards were having trouble keeping them in line.”

“No...” Understanding seemed to be dawning on Sylvanas and Jaina felt a surge of confidence.

“There are riots and breakouts all the time,” Jaina said slowly. “Wouldn’t it be a shame if all the cell doors unlocked and prisoners were able to run amok—“

Sylvanas shook her head vigorously. “No, Jaina...”

“—And escape?” Jaina finished, a devious look in her eyes.

“You’ll be tried and killed for treason.”

“They can’t kill what they can’t find.”

Sylvanas raised her tall, blonde eyebrows. Jaina could tell Sylvanas thought her insane. “Are you actually suggesting what I think you are?”

Jaina pulled one hand back, reaching into a pouch on her belt. “Meet me here,” she whispered, pressing a folded slip of paper into Sylvanas’ hand.

Sylvanas opened her mouth to speak, clearly stunned and thoroughly baffled by what was happening. She tucked the paper into her boot.

“What are you doing, Proudmoore?” Sylvanas questioned, shaking faintly. “Why are you going to ruin your life... for me? Me, of all people!”

Sylvanas’ voice rose on the last three words and Jaina pressed a finger to the banshee’s lips. “Not for you,” she whispered, but she was not unkind, “for Azeroth.” Jaina noted that Sylvanas was still shaking. “Now, are you ready?”

“No,” Sylvanas said, sounding defiant.

“Well, you better get ready, Windrunner.”

Jaina raised her hands, her brow furrowing as she concentrated. As she held her hands in the air, the distinct sound of locks being opened could be heard all throughout the Stockades. Sylvanas’ was the last to be unlocked and Jaina pulled open the door. All around them, prisoners were yelling and shouting, running towards any exit they could find before any guards could step in to corral them.

Jaina pointed a finger at the dampener and sparks flew from her hand, shorting it out. She looked back to Sylvanas who was staring at her in shock.

“What are you waiting for?” Jaina whispered. “There’s a trap door down this hall.” She handed Sylvanas the key she had swiped from a guard on her way in. “Go!”

Sylvanas cautiously stepped out of her cell, standing inches from Jaina. They looked at each other and Jaina gave her a nod. Sylvanas stared mutely at the mage, Jaina realizing she was trying to comprehend what had just happened, what Jaina had just done. She did not move and Jaina gestured for her to get going, silently mouthing urgent pleas.

Sylvanas shook her head, seemingly to try and clear it, then slipped past Jaina, spotting the trap door she had mentioned. Jaina stared at Sylvanas as the banshee stared back, standing still, and everything felt surreal, as if they were in a fairytale dream. She gestured towards Sylvanas, suddenly worried that everything may come crashing down around them, that nothing would end well.

Swallowing visibly, Sylvanas walked swiftly back to Jaina and took her face in her hands, giving her a frantic, grateful kiss. She pulled back, holding Jaina’s gaze for just a moment, then made her way to the door and disappeared.

Jaina stood unmoving, still staring, her eyes now fixed on the closed trap door. She brushed her lips with her fingertips, the smallest hint of a smile playing on her face. The last few moments seemed as though they had happened in slow motion and Jaina had been unable to focus on anything, or anyone, apart from the banshee. Everything came back into focus when Sylvanas departed and the ruckus from the prison break suddenly assaulted her ears and she came back to reality, quickly teleporting herself away.

Freeing Sylvanas was the right thing to do, she knew. She did not care about the consequences, did not care that she had effectively committed treason. She did what was right and that was all that mattered.

She and Sylvanas would meet at the coordinates she had given the banshee. There, they would discuss what to do next, discuss mobilizing Sylvanas’ army with Helya and Nathanos, discuss using the augmented dagger, discuss journeying to Ny’alotha and destroying N’Zoth.

She did not know if this plan would work out, did not know if they would be able to pull off what she hoped they could. But, at the very least, regarding Dark Lady Sylvanas Windrunner, she had done what was right. And, for Lord Admiral Jaina Proudmoore, that was all that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if anyone’s read my fic _The Ties That Bind_, you may remember me saying the story took me in a different direction than I had planned and that I had written some stuff that I ultimately was unable to fit into the story. I had initially planned on posting it as a bonus chapter when all was said and done, but I honestly loved one of the sequences so much that I held on to it, hoping that, someday, I may be able to repurpose it elsewhere.
> 
> And then... this story came along and I realized that I could use the part I had written and just rewrite the stuff that needed to be adjusted so it would fit here. The part I’m talking about is the entire Stockades scene, including the kiss, which was a big reason why I wanted to fix up what I’d written and use it _somewhere_. The image of a stunned Sylvanas just barely even knowing what to do with her freedom and only being able to express her gratitude with a kiss was just something I absolutely loved.
> 
> Hopefully you guys enjoyed it as well.
> 
> I spent a fair amount of time today writing a chapter I’d been putting off for a _while_ because I wasn’t sure exactly how I wanted to approach it, but I’ve basically completed a fairly solid draft, so I figured I’d celebrate that small victory by posting a new chapter. The one I wrote is another chapter or two out before we get there.
> 
> Depending on how quickly I can write and edit, I may have another chapter ready to go soon. I think I have three or four chapters that are more or less written and just need to be edited, I just like having a solid bank of chapters to post in case I run into writer’s block somewhere. I hate leaving people waiting and I could never commit to a fixed schedule, so I just try to post when I’m ready and have a good handle on where I’m taking the story.
> 
> Sorry this note got so long, I just wanted to talk about the prison scene and kind of touch base on how I write and when I decide to post chapters.
> 
> I hope to have another chapter soon, but thanks for reading this one! As always, thanks for clicking and thanks for the feedback. It’s always very much appreciated.


	8. “You’re In For a Treat”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is like 80% fluff and I loved writing it.
> 
> Dive in!

“Windrunner has escaped!” Tyrande exploded. “What is the meaning of this? There were dampeners and wards all over her cell. How could she have _possibly_ gotten out?”

Jaina heard Tyrande’s frenzied shouts before she even entered the throne room of Stormwind Keep. “What’s going on?” she asked as she walked in, trying to sound as surprised as she could.

Tyrande fixed her with such an icy stare that Jaina felt chilled to the bone. “You,” she said, her voice still full of rage, but it was careful and controlled now, and that terrified Jaina more than the yelling. “You had a hand in this. You _sympathized_ with that monster! _You_ freed her! There is _no_ other explanation!”

“Nonsense!” shouted Vereesa. All eyes turned to the youngest Windrunner sister. “Jaina may have disagreed with the method, but she would _not_ do this! _I_ didn’t even do it and I think my sister was locked up under false pretenses and didn’t deserve any of this!”

Jaina had not spoken to Vereesa since she had stormed out of the throne room, but she was grateful that her friend had her back. She forced herself to remain calm, to try to convince those in attendance—Alleria, Vereesa, Anduin, Genn, Shaw, Tyrande, Go’el, and Lor’themar—that she was innocent. Thalyssra was also in attendance, standing at her side, knowing that Jaina was responsible, but trying as well to argue for Jaina’s innocence.

“She was with me, in Dalaran,” Thalyssra lied easily. “We spent the night studying, trying to see if we could gain any more information.”

“Did you?” Tyrande questioned. Jaina shivered at the look on her face, at the way her eyes glittered like two deep, black pools of night.

“No,” Jaina spoke up, “no, we didn’t.”

“Am I meant to believe that the two of you spent the _entire_ night just... _reading_?” Tyrande sounded incredulous and her eyes narrowed at both women.

“No,” Thalyssra said. “We read for a while, then we retired to Jaina’s old quarters to eat and...” She licked her lips as she trailed off and Jaina noticed a hint of smugness and deceit in her eye.

“And?” Tyrande demanded.

“And we made some time for ourselves, to get away from the horrors of what’s happening.”

Tyrande just stared and Jaina felt the slightest of smirks tug at her mouth as she added, “In case that wasn’t clear enough for you, we—“

“It _was_ clear enough, thank you,” Tyrande spat. “I don’t wish to hear any more of this.”

“Good,” said Jaina coldly, “because there’s nothing else to say.”

There were scattered, whispered conversations about the lie Thalyssra and Jaina had shared, and Jaina was content to let everyone believe it. Amusingly enough, there was even a bit of truth to it, as they did spend some time together in Dalaran before Jaina busted Sylvanas out of the Stockades. The smirk on Thalyssra’s face told Jaina the elder mage felt the same as she did and she nearly grinned at how well they worked together. She looked at Thalyssra, extending an elbow.

“Shall we?”

Thalyssra smiled broadly and linked her arm with Jaina’s. “We shall.”

Together, they gave curt nods to Tyrande and walked out of the throne room, teleporting to Dalaran.

“You were amazing,” Jaina gushed once they had arrived in Jaina’s old quarters, pulling Thalyssra into a hug.

“So were you,” Thalyssra said, holding her tight.

Jaina felt more relaxed than she figured she had any right to, given the treason she had committed. But, it was worth it, she knew. If they wanted to truly destroy N’Zoth and not just hold him off, they needed Sylvanas.

“Sylvanas told me she needs to be the one to wield the dagger,” Jaina said. A humorless chuckle on her lips, she added, “It worked out that I freed her.”

Thalyssra’s eyes widened a bit. “There’s no other way?”

“The power from the dagger comes from both her and N’Zoth,” Jaina explained.

Thalyssra nodded her understanding. “That’s rather terrifying, but I suppose it makes sense.”

They were silent for a short time, Jaina thinking about Sylvanas and the dagger and figuring that Thalyssra was having similar thoughts.

“Are you going to go meet up with her?” Thalyssra asked, and Jaina nodded. “Stay safe.”

“I will, don’t worry.”

Thalyssra smiled and pinched her arm as Jaina grinned. “I’m still going to worry.”

Her grin and her happy mood faded after a few moments and Jaina murmured, “I hate that you’re implicated in this.”

Thalyssra shook her head. “I just want to help.” Jaina smiled at them being on the same wavelength. Thalyssra took Jaina’s hands in hers and squeezed them gently. “Besides, what are friends for, if not to get in trouble together now and again?”

They shared silly smiles and embraced once more, then pulled back and gazed at each other. Jaina pulled a slip of paper from a pouch and pressed it into Thalyssra’s palm.

“Coordinates, to meet us with the dagger when it’s ready.”

“Got it,” she said, tucking it away in a pouch on her belt. “This’ll all work out.”

“It will.”

“All right,” Thalyssra whispered, patting Jaina’s arm, “off you go.”

Jaina nodded and kissed Thalyssra’s cheeks as the elder mage kissed hers. “Off I go,” she murmured back. “See you soon.”

“See you soon.”

They smiled again as Jaina teleported away, emerging in the forests of the Ghostlands. She had been to the location previously to set up a tent and campfire, to prepare for a hopefully brief stay in the wilderness while the dagger was worked on.

Jaina paced by the tent, a tired yawn on her lips. She had expected Sylvanas by now, had expected the banshee to show up so they could plan. She was thoroughly exhausted after the meeting with Tyrande about the prison break. She paced more, growing nervous, her whole body screaming for rest. She wondered if Sylvanas had decided to stop somewhere first, perhaps in Stormheim to meet with Nathanos and Helya and check in on their army.

That was fine, if that was the case. But if something else had happened... She forced herself not to entertain such a thought and with a last look around, she slipped into the tent, climbing into a bedroll and gazing at the stars that dotted the night sky. She closed her eyes, deciding to allow herself time to rest and sleep, hoping that Sylvanas would be along soon.

***

Jaina awoke to gentle fingers combing her hair and she froze when she saw Sylvanas gazing at her through soft eyes. She felt a tentative smile tug at her lips, but she was nervous. She was relieved, though, that Sylvanas had finally arrived and appeared to be no worse for wear.

The banshee’s fingers were still in her hair and Jaina found herself a bit terrified by not only how comforting and nice it felt, but how Sylvanas caressing her hair felt as though it was the most natural thing in the world. She did not want it to stop.

“Morning,” she finally managed, her voice soft and tremulous.

Sylvanas pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow. Her tone thoughtful, she asked, “Have you ever thought about dying your hair?”

Jaina snorted in spite of herself and Sylvanas smiled. “You think I need to?”

Sylvanas shook her head and it was Jaina’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “No, I think it gives you character.”

Jaina flushed and murmured, “Thank you for saying that.”

Sylvanas drew back her hand and slipped it under her pillow, saying almost dreamily, “It’s also a preview of how your hair will look when you’re very old...”

Jaina frowned, but she was deeply amused and by the cheeky look Sylvanas was giving her, she could tell the banshee knew it. “Thanks,” she pouted, as the banshee grinned at her. She drew back her hand as well, tucking it under her pillow. She held Sylvanas’ gaze until the banshee let slip the softest of sighs and closed her eyes. “Tired?” she asked.

Sylvanas shook her head, her eyes still closed. “Not tired, just... very comfortable...”

Jaina bit her lip. She wondered if Sylvanas meant comfortable with the bedroll, present company, or both, but she was afraid to ask. She kept staring at Sylvanas, realizing that she felt the same, not tired, but rather comfortable, like she could just stay here for days, sleeping or not, just as long as Sylvanas was near. She knew why, but she was afraid to admit it to herself. Instead, she pushed the thought to the back of her mind and closed her eyes, her breaths becoming slow and steady. She was drifting off when she felt Sylvanas’ fingers in her hair again, heard a soft, sweet hum coming from the banshee’s lips. Her eyes still closed, she smiled, and briefly felt Sylvanas’ fingers still and the humming stop. Both actions resumed after a moment, and Jaina realized that Sylvanas had likely seen and reacted to the smile.

Smiling still, Jaina felt Sylvanas move closer and she fell back asleep.

***

Days passed, with Jaina and Sylvanas coexisting in the forest, primarily keeping to themselves, but having brief conversations now and then. For meals, Jaina ate dried meats and breads she had brought along, and she always offered some to Sylvanas, but the banshee always refused. She found herself wondering if Sylvanas needed to eat, but she refrained from asking.

Sylvanas kept herself busy by going running from time to time while Jaina generally preferred reading. She had brought along several books and had nearly read all of them. She was beginning to go a bit stir-crazy waiting for the dagger. As such, she awoke early one morning, rising before the sun, much as she had the day she found a battered and weak Sylvanas returning from Ny’alotha. She exited the tent while Sylvanas slept. She knew there was a lake nearby and she thought she might go fishing and cook something, have something other than preserved meats and breads for once. She dressed in a light tunic and trousers, completing the ensemble with a pair of boots.

She picked up the cookpot by the campfire, a cookpot that had not been used at all, as Jaina had only brought it in case it was necessary, in case they may actually spend long enough in the woods to deplete the rations she had brought. She had not expected they would spend more than a couple of days waiting on the dagger, but she was content to wait for it to be perfect. Rushing things would likely end up in another failure, with N’Zoth surviving once more. She smoothed her tunic and began to walk off when she heard a groggy voice behind her.

“Where are you off to at this early hour, Proudmoore?”

“Going fishing,” Jaina said, and she set off, adding, “I’ll be back later.”

“Fishing without a pole?” Sylvanas remarked with a chuckle. “Sounds challenging.”

“I freeze them,” Jaina said simply, then conceded a bit sheepishly, “but if they move too quickly, aiming a spell at them can be a bit difficult...”

Jaina heard Sylvanas rise to her feet and walk over to her. “May I come along?”

Color rose in Jaina’s cheeks and she asked with a grin, “You want to watch me fish?”

“I want to see how you do it,” Sylvanas replied. Murmuring softly, she added, “It sounds _fascinating_.”

Jaina frowned, her face falling. “Are you mocking me?”

Sylvanas’ eyes went wide and she touched Jaina’s forearm, the contact feeling electric to Jaina. “I would never.” Jaina nodded, calming as Sylvanas ran her fingertips along her arm, the cool touch causing her to subtly draw in a quick, shaky breath. Sylvanas patted her arm. “Give me a few minutes to change.”

“You can’t just wear that?” Jaina asked, looking Sylvanas up and down. The banshee wore a thin tunic and trousers similar to her own, because they _were_ hers. Regardless of how much time they would ultimately spend in the forest, Jaina had brought along plenty of changes of clothes for both of them. They were a bit oversized, hanging loosely off her athletic frame, the neck of the tunic shifting so that the fabric hung a little off her shoulder, revealing blueish purple skin.

“Well, if the fishing outing goes well, or if it doesn’t, I’d like to take you hunting afterwards, if... you’re up for it.” She ran a hand through her hair, then scratched at her ear, and Jaina almost thought she seemed nervous.

“I’ve never been hunting,” Jaina admitted.

“Really?” Sylvanas said, hands on her hips. “Well, you’re in for a treat.” She turned and headed back to the tent as Jaina watched.

“Won’t it take you a while to dress?” she asked. “Took you some time to change into a nightgown the other day...” She cocked an unamused eyebrow at Sylvanas.

Sylvanas chuckled as she began to remove her top. Jaina spun back around, but it did not seem as though Sylvanas was remotely modest. “I knew how tired you were, Proudmoore. I... may have hoped that you would fall asleep while I was changing so I could sneak out...”

Jaina growled and Sylvanas huffed a laugh. “What made you reconsider?”

“I realized how stubborn I was being and that it wasn’t fair to you, nor anyone else. You just wanted to help. You actually seemed to...” She trailed off, apparently considering her words before she spoke. “Seemed to... care... about me, even if your intentions were simply to save the world.”

Jaina felt something stir inside her. She felt warm... happy, even. She _did_ care about Sylvanas, as well as their world. She cared more the longer she remained in the banshee’s presence and it scared her. She took a shuddering breath, finding her nerve, and admitted, “I do care about you. I... want to save our world, but... I found myself caring that you were okay.” She exhaled deeply. “I just want to do what’s right.”

Sylvanas did not reply, but Jaina could hear her tugging on her boots and she shivered when the banshee walked up to stand next to her, slinging her bow over her shoulder. Jaina turned, seeing her own cloak in Sylvanas’ hands. Carefully, Sylvanas slipped Jaina’s cloak over her shoulders and Jaina fastened it tight. “It’s windy,” she said, her hand resting briefly on the small of Jaina’s back. “Stay warm.”

Jaina smiled at Sylvanas’ thoughtfulness and the gentle hand on her back. “Thanks.”

“Mhm.”

Sylvanas sweetly pushed Jaina forward and they began walking towards the nearby lake, the banshee’s hand dropping to her side. They walked close enough side by side that their shoulders casually brushed against one another.

“So,” Jaina began, “when did you first learn to hunt?”

“Ohh,” Sylvanas murmured, and Jaina watched as her face became a canvas of memories, an almost shy smile tugging at her lips. “I was very young. Vereesa was still a baby and Alleria was older by a bit. Our Minn’da took us out close to the Spire and let Alleria have tons of target practice on big and small animals alike.”

“Let me guess, you took care of Vereesa while Alleria had all the fun?”

Sylvanas chuckled warmly. “For the most part, yes. Vereesa lived in my arms most of the day. She was a _very_ fussy baby...”

Jaina grinned, catching Sylvanas’ eye. “But you were a good big sister and took care of her anyway, right?”

The look on Sylvanas’ face, a look of pure love and adoration for her sister, made Jaina’s breath catch in her throat. “Of course I did,” she whispered. “I love her more than I can say.” Her voice even more hushed, she said, “My ‘Little Moon.’”

Jaina felt overcome, listening to Sylvanas talk about Vereesa. She found herself even more relieved that she had believed Sylvanas, had freed her so they could fight N’Zoth. Sylvanas may have always come off as an enigma, and there were likely still things that Jaina had yet to learn, but she was clearly a woman who loved her family and that was something Jaina could relate to and admire.

“Alleria did most of the hunting that day,” Sylvanas said, pulling Jaina from her thoughts. “I didn’t mind it, if I’m being honest. She’s always been talented and watching a talented ranger hunt is a joy with no equal.” She smiled almost shyly again and continued, “But, before we went home, she took Vereesa in her arms, handed me her bow, and smacked my ass, telling me to be useful and go kill something.” She broke out in a grin at the memory and Jaina laughed at the amused look on Sylvanas’ face. “Now, I’d only ever briefly held a bow, being as young as I was, but I couldn’t disappoint my big sister. Our Minn’da just laughed and said I’d probably need a fair amount of practice before I’d hit anything, but I was determined.”

They reached the lake and Jaina set down the cookpot as Sylvanas set down her bow and took a seat near the water, leaning back on her hands, legs casually outstretched. Jaina sat beside her, eager to hear the rest of the story. Once Sylvanas had seemingly gotten comfortable, she continued, a warm smile playing on her lips.

“I nocked an arrow, with a bit of help from Minn’da, and I fired it at the nearest animal I saw, a small rabbit.”

“And you hit it?” Jaina asked, excitement in her voice.

Sylvanas shook her head, pouting. “I missed entirely.”

“Aww...” Jaina had a perfect image in her head of sweet baby Vereesa, little and determined Sylvanas, and amused and teasing Alleria. She blushed a bit, smiling at the thought of the three Windrunner sisters together and happy.

“But, I didn’t give up. I tracked the rabbit the way Minn’da had been teaching me and I sneaked quietly through the trees and spotted him, munching on some leaves.”

Jaina leaned towards Sylvanas as Sylvanas leaned towards her. “And?” she asked, her attention rapt.

“I was careful. My experience was extremely limited at that age, but I put forth all of the bits of training and advice I’d received thus far from Minn’da and Alleria.” Her eyes glowed brightly as she spoke and Jaina nearly lost herself in them. “So, I crouched down, lined up my shot, held my breath... and fired.” She raised an eyebrow as a slow, smug smirk spread across her face. “I got him.”

Jaina grinned, caught up in the excitement of the tale. “How did everyone react?”

“Minn’da was surprised, but very pleased,” she said, “while Alleria was in shock. She pouted for a couple of minutes, but she came around and she was happy for me.”

“And what about Vereesa?” Jaina asked, a silly expression on her face.

Sylvanas puffed out her chest as she shared proudly, “Well, she stopped fussing and I _thought_ I heard a little cheer from her...”

Jaina was still smiling, but she turned serious as she murmured, “Vereesa loves you. And so does Alleria.”

Sylvanas nodded, but Jaina noted some reluctance in it. “I love them, too.” Jaina’s breath caught when Sylvanas grabbed and held her gaze, red eyes glinting. “If this goes wrong, Proudmoore—“

“I’ll take care of Vereesa,” Jaina promised, “and I’ll look after Alleria, too.”

Sylvanas nodded again and leaned back, looking out over the water. Jaina could not help but stare at Sylvanas’ profile, and thankfully Sylvanas did not seem to mind. The banshee’s face was a mix of emotions and Jaina found herself wondering which would win out. For now, it seemed relief would be the victor.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Jaina finally stood and walked to the water’s edge, kneeling down and watching the small fish that swam near the surface.

“So what about you, Lord Admiral?”

Jaina raised both eyebrows as she turned to face Sylvanas. “Pardon?”

Sylvanas gave her a small smirk. “Tell me about your first time on the water.”

Jaina nervously tucked her hair behind her ear as she smiled and turned back around to the lake. Sylvanas moved up and knelt next to her, looking at the fish. “All right,” Jaina began, “it was when I was four years old, or at least, that’s as far back as I can remember.”

“Mhm.”

“Papa took me out on the Proudmoore flagship and we walked around as the sailors went about their duties. He taught me several nautical knots and how to hoist sails. Derek was with us as well, and he may as well have been a seasoned sailor at that point.” Jaina noted that Sylvanas seemed uncomfortable at the mention of Derek, but she gave the banshee a reassuring smile and Sylvanas appeared to soften.

“It’s difficult to imagine you as a child,” Sylvanas said, “but I’m picturing a tiny version of you as you are now—with blonde hair, of course—tying various knots and it’s... quite the humorous image, I must say.”

Jaina ducked her head to hide her slightly embarrassed smile and fired a blast of frost at a fish, freezing it instantly. She watched as Sylvanas drew an arrow from her quiver and stabbed it, lifting it up and depositing it into the cookpot.

“What else happened that day?” Sylvanas asked, pointing at another fish with her arrow.

“Well,” Jaina began, freezing the fish at which Sylvanas was pointing, “it certainly wasn’t as exciting as little you shooting a rabbit, but, Papa did let me steer the ship for a bit, or at least, he let me pretend...”

“Little Captain Proudmoore,” Sylvanas mused, “navigating a flagship at four years old. Very impressive.”

Jaina just shook her head, chuckling. The pair stood after catching a couple more fish. Jaina looked down at the cookpot, sighing happily. “These will be all right for a while since they’re frozen.”

“Shall we hunt, then?” Sylvanas asked.

“I’d like that,” Jaina replied. “The way you described you and Alleria hunting, it sounds like it’ll be fascinating to watch you work.”

“I hope I don’t disappoint.”

They went deeper into the forest, Jaina swinging the cookpot lazily as she walked. She found herself no longer stir-crazy, instead feeling calm and relaxed. The dagger would come and they would venture into Ny’alotha, but for now, Jaina would enjoy the company of Sylvanas and the respite from the real world.

“So, how does hunting work exactly?” Jaina asked, looking around at the trees. “Do you just—“

She was cut off by Sylvanas’ fingers pressed to her lips, gently shushing her. Jaina held her breath as Sylvanas dropped her hand and she followed the banshee’s gaze. She spotted a rabbit close by, nibbling some greens. She let out her breath slowly, kneeling when Sylvanas did. She watched as Sylvanas carefully drew her bow and selected an arrow from her quiver.

Jaina was entranced by the way Sylvanas’ body moved: shoulders alternately relaxed and tense, fingers flexing and gripping with precision, ears straight up and alert, eyes fixated on her prey.

It was truly a fascinating sight.

Jaina could not suppress her gasp as Sylvanas, bow drawn and ready, let the arrow fly, humming with self-satisfaction as the rabbit went immediately limp.

“Wow...” Jaina breathed, standing when Sylvanas did. She was acutely aware that she felt warm all over, lower lip trembling so much that she bit it so it would stop. She shook her head and watched as Sylvanas moved towards the rabbit, taking such long, confident strides that Jaina felt a little weak.

She was just tired and a bit hungry, that was all...

She did not think they had been out long, but she could barely make out the sun, mostly obscured by clouds, high in the sky. The sky was dark and dreary and Jaina wondered if it might rain. Her question was answered almost immediately and she gasped when the clouds suddenly opened and began weeping across the land.

“Oh!” she cried, as Sylvanas picked up the rabbit. “We need to get back.”

Sylvanas smirked as she walked back over, the water easily sliding off her armor as Jaina’s thin tunic and trousers got drenched. “You don’t like rain?”

Jaina frowned, thoroughly regretting not changing into her usual, far more water-resistant, outfit. “Not when I’m wearing something like _this_,” she all but hissed, flipping up her hood and drawing her cloak closer about her shoulders, flushing at the way her soaked tunic clung to her body.

Sylvanas set the rabbit in the cookpot so she could slip off her own cloak and wrap Jaina in it. Smirking, she teased, “Seems you’re barely wearing anything at all...”

Jaina was about to bite back when Sylvanas chuckled and turned away, walking back towards the direction of their camp. She shook her head, but the soft sound of Sylvanas’ laugh made her feel warm again, even in the cold rain, and she felt herself smiling and fiercely blushing as they walked back to camp.

***

The rain had stopped and the sun was peeking out from behind the clouds when they arrived back at their tent. Jaina was relieved to find that the tent had survived the rain and everything inside was dry. She shivered as she removed both Sylvanas’ cloak and her own, returning the banshee’s to her.

“Change,” Sylvanas said firmly. “I’m not taking a sick mage to Ny’alotha.” Jaina was about to say that she was planning on changing anyway, but she refrained when she saw Sylvanas giving her a smirk.

She walked around to the back of the tent after gathering her usual corset and leggings, and she undressed, peeling off her wet clothes. A gentle sigh left her lips as she turned to look at Sylvanas sitting on a nearby rock. She set the frozen fish aside on a stone of their own and began to prepare the rabbit to be cooked. Jaina turned back, yawning a bit, considering taking a nap to catch up on sleep. She dried off with a summoned flame on her hand and dressed, gathering her wet clothes and bringing them to a nearby tree, hanging them separately over a couple of low branches that she still needed to be on her tiptoes to reach. She dried them with the flames as much as she could, but they were still a bit damp and she left them to dry naturally.

She wandered over to Sylvanas, pointing a finger at the ground beneath a crude spit Sylvanas had fashioned from several arrows and exhaled as a fire roared to life. The two women exchanged nods and Jaina slipped into the tent, crawling into her bedroll.

“I’ll wake you later, if you don’t wake up first,” Sylvanas said.

“Mhm,” Jaina mumbled, curling up in her bedroll.

“Sleep well.”

Jaina’s thoughts ran rampant as she closed her eyes tiredly. What a day it had been, and it was not yet over. It felt surreal, much as it had in the Stockades when she had freed Sylvanas. There were so many things to be worried about, so many things that could go wrong, but for now, Jaina would push them aside and take a much-needed nap, pleasant dreams of a certain captivating woman dancing in her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feelings are being caught...
> 
> This chapter started somewhere in the neighborhood of like 12k words, but I split it up into three chapters with natural end points and some hopefully juicy fun stuff sprinkled throughout.
> 
> I’ll try to have another chapter up soon, but I have a bunch of stuff that I need to fit in the next few chapters and even more to write after that.
> 
> Hope the fluff was enjoyable! I very much enjoyed writing the fishing/hunting scene and the stories Sylvanas and Jaina shared.
> 
> As always, thanks for the feedback!


	9. “You’re Lucky You’re Good Company”

Jaina awoke later to the lovely smell of food permeating her senses. She sat up, finding Sylvanas just outside turning the rabbit on the spit as it roasted over the open fire, the cookpot next to it. “Dinnertime already?” she asked, as she yawned and stretched and rose from her bedroll.

“Mhm,” was all Sylvanas said, clearly focused on cooking.

Jaina left the tent and walked over to Sylvanas, deeply inhaling the wondrous aroma of the food. “I’m famished,” she said.

Sylvanas chuckled. “It’ll be done soon, just be patient.”

Jaina nodded and looked about at their surroundings. She was a bit amazed that they had spent several days tucked away in a remote part of the Ghostlands, waiting for Wrathion and Magni to finish preparing the dagger. Both men had no idea that Sylvanas needed to be the one to wield the weapon, they only knew it needed to be used on him.

Jaina had thought earlier about how she was surprised the dagger was taking as long as it was, but after having spent the early part of the day with Sylvanas, the two of them each sharing a tale of their youth as they fished and hunted and walked together, Jaina found that she absolutely did not care how long the dagger would take. She was content to stay here, learning about Sylvanas and sharing more tales, with N’Zoth and Ny’alotha far from her mind.

Still, however, she knew they had a job to do. She knew their task would be a difficult one and, assuming they succeeded, they were in for more danger with whatever Tyrande had in mind for punishment when they returned. She hoped the Night Warrior would see reason, would see that Sylvanas was entirely focused on saving the world and as many people as she could.

If Tyrande could not see that... things would be very difficult indeed.

“The dagger should be ready soon,” Jaina said as she took a seat across from Sylvanas and settled in to watch her cook.

“They’re unaware still, I hope?” Sylvanas asked, stirring the contents of the cookpot. “About me needing to be the one to wield it?”

“Only Thalyssra knows, and she won’t tell them,” Jaina assured her. Sylvanas hummed in response, but Jaina saw worry knit her features. “I trust her,” she said firmly, her tone a bit defensive.

Sylvanas looked up, surprise on her face. “As do I, Proudmoore, you don’t need to defend her to me.”

Jaina backed down, softening. “Sorry, I just—I don’t know. I’m nervous about all of this.”

“Well,” Sylvanas began, raising an eyebrow in her direction, “_you’re_ the one who busted me out.” At Jaina’s shocked look, Sylvanas just smiled. “I appreciate you doing so,” she said softly, “but I don’t want you to be stressed.”

“I’m fine,” Jaina insisted and Sylvanas gave her a look that was full of doubt.

“You just said you were nervous...”

“I can be nervous and still be fine.”

“Oh... Well, then...”

In response, Jaina stole the wooden spoon Sylvanas had been using to stir the cookpot and scooped up a big mouthful of vegetables, wolfing it down. Sylvanas calmly took the empty spoon away from her, shaking her head. She went back to stirring, shooting Jaina looks as she did so.

“I’m hungry,” Jaina said with a shrug. She wondered where Sylvanas had gotten vegetables and spices, especially when they were both fugitives, but she chose not to ask.

“And impatient,” Sylvanas said. “Obnoxious, too...” she added under her breath.

“Little bit,” Jaina admitted, and they shared smirks.

“You’re lucky you’re good company, Proudmoore,” Sylvanas said with a resigned sigh, offering her the refilled spoon.

Jaina brightened and let Sylvanas feed her a big bite of delicious herbed vegetables. Sylvanas was shaking her head again, but she was clearly amused, and Jaina felt a rush of warmth in her cheeks, quickly spreading throughout her body. She was getting used to feeling warm and content when she was around Sylvanas, but, as nice as it felt, Jaina was worried and just a tad fearful about what it all meant.

They were silent for a while as the rabbit continued cooking and Sylvanas kept offering Jaina spoonfuls of food.

Jaina found herself wondering about what Sylvanas had mentioned regarding Helya and the army she was preparing. Her thoughts, however, were more specifically related to Nathanos and what Sylvanas had shared regarding his whereabouts and the nature of the relationship they shared. She bit her lip and frowned, her frustration palpable enough that Sylvanas took notice, peering at her with a confused, yet concerned, expression.

“I’m cooking as fast as I can, Proudmoore,” Sylvanas said, and Jaina knew she was trying to be silly for her sake. She wished it would have worked.

“I’m wondering about Helya and what’s going on, exactly, with that,” Jaina admitted, awkwardly accepting another spoonful when it was offered. She chewed slowly as Sylvanas appeared to mull over her words. She wanted to talk about Nathanos, but she could not force herself to mention him. It was irritating her, thinking about him, thinking about the two of them together...

She grunted at the thought, making Sylvanas quirk an eyebrow at her. “As I mentioned before, Helya has been building an army with the souls of everyone who has perished so far in this war,” Sylvanas said. “She’s been mobilizing enough forces to assist in striking back at N’Zoth.”

“I think I mentioned this before, I honestly don’t remember, but N’Zoth has been sending his forces here and our own have been trying to fight back,” Jaina said softly. “Thalyssra told me that the day Tyrande took you.”

“You and Thalyssra have grown close, it seems,” Sylvanas noted, looking into the cookpot as she stirred its contents. Jaina noted that Sylvanas had completely ignored what she had said about N’Zoth... or perhaps, it just had not caught her attention the way a mention of Thalyssra had.

Jaina licked her lips. There was a note of jealousy in Sylvanas’ voice, if she was not mistaken. She had noticed it before, at Proudmoore Keep, but she had written it off as exhaustion, that neither of them were thinking clearly. Sylvanas’ tone was pointed then and seemed even more pointed now. Jaina chewed on her lip because she felt something, too. Taking a deep breath, she burst out, “What about Nathanos?”

“What about him?” Sylvanas asked, still not looking up from the cookpot.

“You... said you’d sent him to Stormheim to check in on Helya. How’s... ah... how’s that going?” she asked, feeling uneasy.

Sylvanas just nodded, Jaina trying to decide if the banshee was either unaware of or ignoring her discomfort. “It’s going well. I actually went to Stormheim before I came here.”

“Oh?” Jaina tried to sound disinterested, but judging by the smirk on Sylvanas’ face, she was not successful.

“Mhm,” Sylvanas said, “it was good to see him.”

Jaina wondered why she had even asked. Why did she care? It was none of her business and did not remotely affect her life, yet here she was, teeming with envy that Sylvanas had someone to hold, someone to care for her, even if Sylvanas had shared with Jaina the uncertainty of her own feelings towards Nathanos.

They were silent for a couple of minutes, Jaina refusing a spoonful of vegetables, fearing she may vomit what she had already eaten. Sylvanas returned the spoon to the pot, stirring it languidly, and Jaina could see the banshee shooting her subtle glances every now and then.

“He told me he loved me,” Sylvanas said, her tone serious. Jaina did not respond. “I already knew, of course, but it was the first time he had spoken it aloud.” Another moment passed and Sylvanas continued, “I told him I loved him, too.” Jaina nearly gagged, then Sylvanas added, “As a friend.” Relief flooded her and she looked up to find Sylvanas intently holding her gaze, seemingly waiting for her to comment.

Jaina did so, but what she said was not what she expected to share. “Thalyssra and I kissed a few nights ago.” Sylvanas’ expression was unreadable and Jaina continued, the words pouring out of her mouth without any thought. “We had too much to drink and we... kissed a little bit. We decided we were better as friends, but it was... nice... being kissed...” Her voice grew quiet and almost dreamy near the end of her sentence and her face was warm.

Sylvanas finally seemed to consider what Jaina had told her and asked gently, “Why are you telling me this?” Her tone sounded genuinely curious and not remotely accusatory, but Jaina suddenly felt attacked.

“I-I don’t know, I—“ She suddenly thought about freeing Sylvanas and the banshee’s immediate reaction to her having done so. Exasperated, she demanded, “Why did you kiss me?”

Sylvanas visibly swallowed and looked away. Jaina gasped softly and began to amend what she had said when Sylvanas began speaking, her voice quiet, “You had just freed me from what was likely certain death, or at least, lifetime imprisonment.” She huffed a short laugh. “Kissing you seemed like the least I could do to convey my thanks.”

Jaina felt a small smile tugging at her mouth as she looked upon the banshee giving her a somewhat sheepish look, lips twisted into a smirk. The air between them suddenly felt lighter, no longer filled with the tension of worrying about other lovers. “Well, when you put it _that_ way...” She gave Sylvanas a smirk of her own, her cheeks still warm.

Another thought came to her and she wondered if she should ask it. Sylvanas had been to see Nathanos, but she did not say whether or not she had told him of her torture. It was none of her business, as was their relationship—or lack thereof, as it now appeared to be—but Sylvanas had shed light on that and perhaps, she would shed light on the new question she had.

“I... have a question,” she began slowly.

Sylvanas looked a tad nervous, Jaina thought. “What about?” She seemed to be trying to stay nonchalant, but Jaina saw cracks in her exterior.

Fidgeting nervously with her father’s pendant around her neck, Jaina spoke in a hushed, cautious whisper. “Does Nathanos... _know_?”

Jaina did not elaborate, but judging by Sylvanas’ reaction, the banshee knew exactly to what Jaina was referring. Sylvanas stopped stirring the vegetables, gingerly letting the spoon rest against the side of the pot. Her expression looked as dark as the storm clouds earlier and Jaina swallowed the guilty feeling in her throat as knots settled uncomfortably in her stomach.

“I’m sorry, I-I overstepped,” she said quickly.

Sylvanas was quiet still, but she resumed stirring the vegetables. “I have no intention of telling him,” she said finally. “It would break him. I can’t do that.”

“I understand,” Jaina whispered.

“I’m glad you asked,” Sylvanas said, still stirring. “I considered it, but it wouldn’t help anything and it would likely only make him angry and full of hate.”

“He may find out,” Jaina said sadly. “Several already know, even if they don’t believe it.”

Sylvanas sighed and stopped stirring again, nodding in reluctant agreement. “I probably will have to tell him eventually. I dread that day.”

Jaina nodded and considered how to respond, choosing her words carefully. “I’m sorry you went through what you did, and I’m sorry we didn’t find out sooner.”

Sylvanas gave her what looked to be a slightly bitter smile. “I’m relieved that I was able to get out, but I hate that so many died by my hand and I was unable to prevent it.” She looked down, picking up the spoon again and tapping it absently against the side of the cookpot. “Even now, even after breaking free, you said he’s begun sending his forces here. There are possibly even more dying by N’Zoth’s minions than at Teldrassil.”

Jaina thought about what Thalyssra had told her, about focusing on what they could still change and not what they were unable to alter. It was true, even if it hurt. “We’re going to stop him,” she said. “We’re going to kill him and we’re going to end this.”

“I know we are,” Sylvanas said gently. “It’s just difficult to come to terms with what I’ve done.”

“I know it wasn’t you. Thalyssra knows. Everyone else knows, even if they don’t want to accept it.” Jaina was firm and she saw Sylvanas look up with just a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. Jaina let a quiet, relaxed sigh escape her. She hoped she was encouraging and comforting enough and judging by the sweet, soft look she saw on Sylvanas’ face, she figured she had been.

Sylvanas turned the rabbit on the spit and stirred the vegetables again, offering Jaina yet another bite. Jaina accepted it, wondering just how much was left, given how many bites Sylvanas had already given her. She imagined the rabbit had to be just about done by now and she reached up and nicked a small piece of it off the spit, popping it into her mouth as Sylvanas wagged a lightly scolding finger at her. She grinned, still chewing on the tender meat, the crispy skin melting in her mouth.

She watched as Sylvanas looked down at the meat and the vegetables, a gentle smile on the banshee’s lips. She finally admitted to herself that her present company made her feel comfortable and... something else. Something more. She had felt it when they exchanged stories earlier, when she watched Sylvanas hunt, when Sylvanas teased her in the rain. Furthermore, she had been entirely jealous when Sylvanas was talking about Nathanos and then thoroughly relieved when Sylvanas had revealed she did not love him.

She gazed at Sylvanas as the banshee lifted the cookpot off the spit and set it down beside them, carefully removing the rabbit and dropping it into the pot. She stirred the mixture and handed Jaina a fork. Jaina dug in immediately, eating a few bites before she realized that Sylvanas had quietly stood and begun to make up their bedrolls. Her mouth full, she swallowed quickly and tried to offer some of the food to Sylvanas, as she had tried before with the rations she had brought.

“I don’t need to eat,” she said simply, smoothing out one of the beds. Thoughtfully, she said, “Finding seasoning and vegetables was a bit difficult, I had to swipe some from a nearby farm... how does it all taste?” She chuckled before Jaina could answer, adding, “You scarfed down the vegetables when everything was still cooking, so I assume _those_ taste good, at least.”

Jaina gulped down another mouthful as Sylvanas tossed her a canteen of water and she took a swig to wash it all down. Blushing and nodding vigorously, she said, “It all tastes wonderful. You’re a good cook.”

Sylvanas chuckled again. “It’s been some time since I’ve had to make anything. Good to know I’ve not lost my touch.”

Jaina set down her fork and stood, wandering over to Sylvanas and kneeling next to her. She saw Sylvanas freeze briefly, then continue fixing up their bedding. She wondered if Sylvanas felt how she felt, wondered if what she had perceived to be happening between them was all in her head.

She worried about what was to come, what they still had to do. She began to feel fearful the more she thought about everything. She clutched her pendant briefly, squeezing it for comfort, then let it slip out of her grasp.

“I’m afraid,” she whispered suddenly. She was not certain what she was doing, why she had just shared that fact. She felt comfortable with Sylvanas, even more so after the day they had had, that was true, but she was not sure what she was expecting as a response.

“About... going to Ny’alotha?” Sylvanas asked.

Jaina swallowed. That was part of it, but there was more to how she felt. Tentatively, she whispered, “Yes.”

“We’ll have the dagger,” Sylvanas said reassuringly. “We’ll kill N’Zoth and come home.” Quietly, she added, “I’ll probably need to turn myself in.”

“Why?” Jaina asked, feeling her shoulders tense. She was truly afraid now, her head swimming with frightening scenarios where Sylvanas was ripped from her life.

Sylvanas turned to look at her and Jaina felt herself flush under the banshee’s searching gaze. “This isn’t sustainable, Proudmoore,” she said, “and I refuse to let you take responsibility for getting me out. I’ll tell everyone that N’Zoth left some power in me or something to that effect, to explain how I was able to break free of the dampener and escape.”

Jaina shook her head. She could not—_would not_—allow that to happen. “I won’t let you do that. If the defeat of N’Zoth doesn’t convince everyone that you were acting in everyone’s best interests, then we’ll go on the run.”

“Jaina...” Sylvanas whispered, “you’ve helped enough. I won’t let you ruin your life for me.”

“What are you going to do to stop me?”

Sylvanas just gaped at her and Jaina held her gaze, faintly aware that she was shaking, her heart was pounding, and that Sylvanas was sitting extremely close to her, their faces only inches apart. She watched as Sylvanas’ lower lip trembled slightly, her ears flattening, and she saw that Sylvanas was afraid, too. The banshee leaned forward slightly, lips hovering near Jaina’s, their eyes locked.

“Jaina...” Sylvanas said again, and the word almost sounded like a whimper.

Jaina felt a stirring in her chest when she saw a single tear leak from Sylvanas’ eye and roll down her cheek. She reached up to caress Sylvanas’ face just as the banshee cupped hers in chilled hands, leaning in and pressing the softest of kisses to her lips. Jaina closed her eyes, a shaky hand grasping at Sylvanas’ leathers, needing to touch her, to hold her. The most pleasant, comforting warmth spread through Jaina as she lost herself in the kiss, arms going around, embracing the banshee tightly. She shivered when Sylvanas wrapped her arms around her back and nearly wept at just being held.

The kiss deepened, Jaina pressing against the cool leather and metal of Sylvanas’ armor. The banshee’s lips were soft and chilled, and her scent was heavenly. The materials of her armor mixed with a light floral and woodsy smell and Jaina wanted to forever be surrounded in it.

She lost track of time entirely, so absorbed was she in the banshee’s embrace. They finally separated, Jaina panting and trying to recover. She melted when Sylvanas kissed her forehead and her hair, then pressed their foreheads together. After a few more moments, Sylvanas gingerly pulled her onto her lap, burying her face in her neck. Jaina thought she might dissolve into a puddle at the way Sylvanas held her, as if she could not bear the thought of ever letting her go.

How did they get here?

They still barely knew each other in the grand scheme of things, despite sharing intense, private thoughts with one another, and yet to Jaina, it felt as though they had known each other forever. She wrapped her arms around Sylvanas again, her hands stroking silvery blonde hair, content to stay in the banshee’s arms until they absolutely needed to leave. Only Thalyssra had their exact location and with several days gone by, Jaina imagined she would be along soon. She held Sylvanas tighter. She would exist in this moment as long as she could, before everything changed, before everything may end up falling apart.

She lifted Sylvanas’ chin and they shared the tiniest of smiles, both looking alternately excited and nervous about what was to come. They kissed again, Sylvanas’ arms securely around her, her own hands sliding into the banshee’s hair. They kissed and held each other until Jaina heard the unmistakable sound of a teleport somewhere outside the tent and she drew back, panting softly again, her lips warm and swollen.

Sylvanas gave her a sad smile. “It’s time,” she murmured.

Jaina nodded and swallowed hard, kissing Sylvanas once more. She exhaled slowly, looking into the banshee’s eyes, not wanting to move, not wanting to face what they had to face, only wanting more time with Sylvanas. Neither stood, though Jaina knew they needed to greet Thalyssra and prepare for the next step. The dagger was ready and they would soon be off to Ny’alotha, where they would face off against N’Zoth.

Sylvanas seemed to sense Jaina’s hesitation, because she squeezed just a bit tighter and hummed softly, nuzzling Jaina’s neck. “Come on,” Sylvanas whispered, fingertips rubbing gentle circles on her back, “I want to kill this bastard once and for all.”

Jaina turned to her, smiling at her words, and kissed her one last time. Together they stood and exited the tent, ready to face the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have five (yes, five) more chapters that basically just need to be edited before I post them (though there is a fair amount of editing to be done), and there is some fun stuff coming up. I’m not sure how many more chapters total I’ll be doing (going to take a stab and say this story will be roughly _Trust Me_ length, or longer, already at 60k words), but I’m getting close to writing my take on 9.0 and I have some plans for that, I just need to get the scenes out of my head and into the story.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! They finally friggin kissed for realsies after 40k words, lmao. Lots more Sylvaina coming, we’ll be going to Ny’alotha finally, there’ll be stuff with Tyrande... There’s so much I’ve been sitting on and trying to edit so everything flows, so I apologize for having an update drought.


	10. “She’s Just a Person, Like Anyone Else”

They looked around the wooded area, eventually spying Thalyssra, dagger in tow, by a nearby tree. She was smiling slightly, but Jaina could tell there was apprehension in it. She pulled the elder mage into a brief embrace, then drew back and took the offered dagger. Sylvanas stood next to her, looking at the blade, brushing it with her fingers and gasping. Jaina had seen Sylvanas touch the blade before, saw the pain the banshee felt, and she winced in sympathy.

The dagger glowed a bright mix of blue and gold with a hint of white and Jaina recognized it as azerite. The material that prompted the war, prompted so many terrifying events after its discovery, would ultimately be what ended it, or so she hoped.

Sylvanas carefully plucked the dagger from Jaina’s hands and slipped it quickly into the sheath on her belt, shaking out her hand.

“Everything all right, Warchief?” Thalyssra asked.

Jaina saw Sylvanas stiffen at the title. That was something they had not discussed, how Sylvanas felt about being Warchief, if it was even something she had wanted, if she knew who had spoken to Vol’jin, telling him to name her as such.

“I’m eager to defeat N’Zoth,” she said, patting the sheathed dagger on her belt. “This has gone on long enough, I just want it to be over.”

“It will be,” said Thalyssra, “but, what will you do after?”

Jaina looked at Sylvanas, feeling nervous. What would they do? Especially if Tyrande was intent on locking Sylvanas away again, or killing her outright, if she did not believe that Sylvanas acted with the best intentions.

“Survive.”

Jaina felt a chill at Sylvanas’ tone. What she said was accurate, but it was still a bit unsettling to hear. They would both need to survive and not involve or implicate anyone else. Thalyssra was already potentially in danger, but Jaina would do everything in her power to ensure that Thalyssra was not punished for anything Jaina had done.

“Nathanos is standing by,” Sylvanas continued. “We’ll port to Stormheim and speak with him, then we’ll all go to Ny’alotha together. The army Helya commands will be our back-up, but we’ll be doing most of the work. Now that the dagger has been imbued with the concoction Wrathion and Magni created, N’Zoth should fall, as his magic will be used against him.”

“‘Should’?” Jaina found herself asking, biting her lip.

Sylvanas turned to her with a smirk. “Well, it ‘should’ have killed him last time...”

Jaina frowned and shook her head. Thalyssra produced a small pack and opened it, allowing Jaina and Sylvanas to peek inside. “We used the substance Azshara gave Sylvanas to create more, so we can safely pass into and back out of Ny’alotha.”

“Good,” said Sylvanas, “then we’re all ready.”

Jaina began casting a portal to Stormheim, near the entrance to Helheim. She dropped her hands when she was done and the three of them looked at the portal. She noted the fear on the two women’s faces and she patted their shoulders before stepping through.

Nathanos Blightcaller was nearby and Jaina noticed that he seemed to brighten at the sight of his Warchief and then scowl at the sight of Jaina. She gave him a friendly nod that he seemed to reluctantly return, then he addressed Sylvanas.

“My lady, Helya is standing by with the army of lost souls. She awaits your command.”

“Let’s head inside and speak to her.”

“_Everyone_?” he asked with a grimace, turning up his nose at Jaina.

Sylvanas merely nodded and Nathanos scowled as he reluctantly inclined his head, then held out his hand, gesturing for them to enter Helheim. Sylvanas entered first, followed by Thalyssra, with Nathanos and Jaina bringing up the rear.

“I’ve got my eye on you, Proudmoore. I’ve not forgotten Dazar’alor.”

“Nor have I,” Jaina said, “but I’m here to save this world from the clutches of an Old God. We can put aside our grievances for that, can we not?”

There were a few tense moments of silence before he finally answered. “We can.”

Jaina held out her hand and Nathanos eyed it closely before taking it in his hand and shaking it.

“Glad to hear it.” Jaina gave him a pat on the shoulder as she walked off, smiling at the growl behind her.

The four made their way through throngs of souls all working and doing Helya’s bidding, whatever that happened to be. Most were mending old ships that looked like something out of a ghost story and Jaina drew her cloak more tightly about her shoulders, suddenly cold.

Sylvanas led the way, taking long strides that made it difficult to keep up. Jaina gave up trying to stay near and instead, fell into step beside Thalyssra.

“I’m actually in awe that we’re going to officially meet Helya,” Thalyssra whispered.

“Yeah?” Jaina was taken aback, but she smiled nervously.

“She’s a rather incredible figure,” Thalyssra said. “I’m pleased that after all that’s happened she’s actually on our side.”

Jaina nodded. It was almost insane to believe that such a powerful, dark figure was fighting for them, especially when she had seemingly been in opposition before. But Sylvanas had somehow made it work, had made a deal with her that benefited both of them.

“How are you doing?” Thalyssra asked, breaking Jaina out of her thoughts.

“I’m doing all right,” she replied, a smile on her lips.

“How’s Sylvanas doing?” Thalyssra all but whispered the question and Jaina felt her face grow warm. “I think your red face answered that one...”

Jaina chuckled lightly at Thalyssra’s grin. “She’s different than I thought she would be,” she said seriously, her smile fading a bit. “I guess I’m not sure what I expected her to be like, but she seemed like an imposing figure before, larger than life. The last few days have shown me that she’s just a person, like anyone else. Strengths, weaknesses, hopes, fears...” Jaina looked down, exhaling slowly. Under her breath, quiet enough that only Thalyssra could hear, she said, “She doesn’t deserve the fate that I know Tyrande wants for her when this is all over.”

“You two have been on the run for a few days,” Thalyssra whispered. With a shrug, she added, “What’s a few more? Or maybe a few weeks? Things will settle down eventually, Jaina. Tyrande won’t be able to hold Sylvanas’ mind-controlled actions against her if she’s the only one calling for her head.”

“True,” Jaina agreed, “but I’m still worried. Tyrande’s been through a great deal and I sympathize, I just wish she could separate N’Zoth from Sylvanas.”

“What are you two _mumbling_ about?” came Nathanos’ grumpy voice from behind them.

“Nothing important,” Jaina tossed over her shoulder at him, “don’t worry about it.”

He scoffed loudly. “Right...”

Jaina and Thalyssra exchanged easy smiles, then turned towards Sylvanas, who was walking far ahead of them, still taking long, elegant strides. Jaina felt her body fill with trepidation, tension weaving its way into her shoulders the closer they got to Helya. The ruler of Helheim was certainly a figure that evoked hesitation and at least a bit of fear. Jaina tried to be brave, but it was difficult. Even with Helya being an ally to at least Sylvanas, there was always the possibility that she would not accept anyone else.

“Greetings,” Sylvanas said with a bow when she reached Helya.

Helya bowed as well, then nodded towards Jaina, Thalyssra, and Nathanos, who all bowed towards her. “Well met.”

“Shall we get down to business?” Sylvanas asked, folding her arms behind her back.

“Of course.”

Jaina glanced between the two, noting how relaxed Sylvanas was around Helya. A chill went through her when Helya looked in her direction, giving her a long once over. She held the ruler’s gaze as wary eyes looked her over. Helya gave her a slight nod that Jaina took as approval, vaguely aware that gooseflesh had risen all over her exposed skin. A shuddering breath left her lips when Helya turned to inspect Thalyssra and she felt the need to sit down. She refrained and stood her ground, walking to Sylvanas and standing at her side. She watched Sylvanas cast her a sidelong glance accompanied by a soft, reassuring smile.

Warmth flowed through Jaina and she took a steadying breath as Sylvanas began to speak with Helya. She followed the conversation as best she could, but she found her thoughts drifting now and then, worried about what awaited them in Ny’alotha.

“The souls you sent me grow stronger every day,” boomed Helya.

“They’re ready, then? This will not be an easy task. I need to be sure that I’ll have the support of a strong army behind me.”

“Is this doubt I hear, Lady Windrunner?”

Jaina froze, glancing at Sylvanas, suddenly afraid for all of their lives. Surely Sylvanas would not piss off Helya and seal all of their fates?

Chuckling, Sylvanas shook her head. “Of course not, Helya,” she said. “I could not have even conceived of such an army without your help.”

Helya was smirking and Jaina could not help but be mesmerized by how calm and cool Sylvanas was in their interaction. Helya was a formidable figure, but one would have thought she was any old random person, and not the ruler of a terrifying underworld.

“They’ve been preparing and doing any and all tasks I require of them. Most recently, they made rather quick work of the forces N’Zoth sent to Stormheim.” Helya looked smug and Sylvanas grinned.

“Sounds like they’re ready,” said Sylvanas, her grin widening enough to reveal her fangs. Her ears swished forward and back, and Jaina imagined that meant she was conveying her excitement.

“They are,” Helya confirmed, her tone proud. She looked hard at Sylvanas and asked, “Are you?”

Sylvanas brought her hands out in front of her, reaching for the dagger of Xal’atath on her belt. She drew it from its sheath and held it up in hands that shook slightly, and Jaina knew how much pain she was in. The dagger gleamed beautifully with the power of azerite coursing through it. Jaina glanced at Helya, shivering at the way she purred as she looked upon the weapon.

“I can feel its power just by looking at it,” Helya murmured, sounding as though she were in a trance. “With our army of souls and you armed with such power, nothing can stand in your way.”

Sylvanas carefully sheathed the dagger and rubbed her hand, then rested both hands behind her back again, rocking on her heel. “I believe you’re right. Now all that remains is to journey to Ny’alotha.”

“And once you’ve succeeded,” Helya began, “you know what happens after...”

“I do,” said Sylvanas, and Jaina looked between the two of them, finding their expressions unreadable. “It will be done.”

Jaina looked at Sylvanas, seeing her profile darken. She had questions, questions that she feared Sylvanas may not wish to answer, but that she absolutely wanted and needed to ask.

“Good. I don’t much like the idea that we and the world may perish. I do hope that won’t happen anytime soon...”

Jaina looked between the two again, then at Thalyssra and Nathanos. Thalyssra seemed calm, but there was confusion etched into her face. Nathanos seemed smug, as usual, and Jaina wondered what he knew, if he knew about whatever Sylvanas and Helya were cryptically discussing.

“I’m rather attached to this world, despite everything,” Sylvanas said with an easy smile, “I also hope we won’t perish along with it.”

Helya chuckled. “Then you best get going.”

Sylvanas bowed and Helya returned it. “Thank you. We won’t fail.”

“You better not... not much of an afterlife if there’s no world from which to gain souls...” Her tone was light and there was a smirk on her lips, but Jaina could tell she was serious.

Sylvanas nodded and turned to Jaina, Thalyssra, and Nathanos as they all gathered together. “I suppose we’re ready,” she said. “Helya’s forces will make their way to us once we’re inside.”

Thalyssra opened her knapsack, passing around the filled vials she had shown everyone previously. Jaina peered at Sylvanas, willing her to tell them what the last part of her conversation with Helya meant, what they were talking about for what was supposed to take place afterwards. Frustrated, Jaina opened her mouth to demand an explanation when Sylvanas began speaking quietly.

“I... guess I should tell you now that our journey does not end here, assuming we manage to vanquish N’Zoth,” she murmured, and Jaina saw that she was looking very intently at the vial she held and not at anyone else.

Tensing, Jaina asked, “What do you mean, exactly? What were you and Helya talking about?”

Sylvanas finally looked at her. “Old Gods returning has threatened the balance between Life and Death. Their return and the resurgence of the Black Empire has weakened the machine of Death so considerably, that our world will continue to be in danger until we can repair it.”

Jaina was upset that Sylvanas had not shared everything she knew beforehand, but perhaps she was afraid of revealing too much information while they were still focused on another task. The way Sylvanas was looking at her, sadness and regret on her features, her hands shaking just slightly, told Jaina she did not have any ill intentions behind holding off on sharing all she knew.

“How do we repair it?” Thalyssra asked. Jaina noted that the elder mage seemed calm and wondered if she had somehow sensed that something was amiss beyond Old Gods and the Black Empire.

“We need souls,” Sylvanas said, her voice quiet.

All eyes turned to the souls milling about near Helya, thousands of them all looking lost and hopeless and Jaina felt tears in her eyes. “After all this,” she said gruffly, “they don’t even get peace?”

Sylvanas was silent and Jaina stepped close, catching her chin and forcing Sylvanas to face her. She heard a slight gasp from Thalyssra and a grumble from Nathanos, but she did not drop her hand.

“Talk to me,” she pleaded. “Are you telling me that they won’t get to experience the peace of death once N’Zoth has been dealt with?”

Sylvanas licked her lips. “They won’t have the peace of death, no, but they’ll have the peace of knowing that their lives will help our world, help restore the balance between Life and Death and ensure that Azeroth does not perish.”

Jaina dropped her hand and turned away, shaking as she walked. She heard the sound of Sylvanas’ boots approaching, heard Thalyssra mumble something to Nathanos as he grunted in response.

“We’ll meet you in Ny’alotha,” Thalyssra called.

“_Don’t_ keep us waiting...” Nathanos said irritably, and Jaina knew he was addressing her and not Sylvanas.

Jaina kept walking, looking for a small spot of peace and quiet. She stopped walking when she heard sounds similar to teleportation and she knew Thalyssra and Nathanos had ventured into Ny’alotha. She spun around, facing Sylvanas, who gently grasped her forearms and looked at her pleadingly.

“I know this is difficult to comprehend, but it’s necessary,” she said. “I’ve been working with the Jailer for several years now.”

Jaina looked up at the name. It was not one she had heard before. “‘The Jailer’?”

Sylvanas nodded. “He’s in charge of keeping terrible horrors from entering our world, but with Old Gods and the Black Empire on our doorstep, Death’s existence is uncertain, and we may see enemies worse than N’Zoth, worse than his forces, escape to our world. It’ll be pure chaos. We need to provide anima to heal the machine of Death and anima comes from souls of the dead.” She paused and looked deep into Jaina’s eyes, making Jaina shiver. “It’s the only way.”

“So all those souls lost in Darnassus, they just become fuel for Death?” Jaina was shaking faintly, her voice both tremulous and angry.

“Yes.”

Sylvanas stepped closer, rubbing Jaina’s arms, moving up to squeeze her shoulders. Jaina shook her head and Sylvanas kept rubbing her shoulders, her eyes soft when Jaina dared to look into them. The tension Jaina was feeling lessened slightly at Sylvanas’ touch, but she was still upset, still incredibly sad and angry that those whose lives were lost, would never be able to find peace in the afterlife.

“Is it only them? Are they enough to fix Death, or will more innocents be required?” Her voice was rough, choked by tears and she struggled to keep her emotions in check.

“They’ll provide a large amount of anima,” Sylvanas replied. “I should also be able to send the anima N’Zoth holds when we destroy him, which should contribute an incredible amount.”

“Could it be enough to fix it?” Jaina asked hopefully. “Without using the souls?”

Sylvanas looked somber. “Not likely. It isn’t a one-time occurrence, we need to keep feeding it.”

“But creatures and enemies, they have anima, too, right?” Sylvanas nodded. “Maybe N’Zoth will be enough to repair it for now, and future enemies can—“

Sylvanas smiled a bit and Jaina swallowed, uncertain what it meant. She did not have to wonder long. “You’re so hopeful, so positive and optimistic.” Sylvanas leaned close, looking deep into her eyes. “I love it.” Her tone was sincere and excited and Jaina found herself caught up in it all.

“I’m trying to be,” she whispered. “I spent so long seeing the negative side of things and _only_ the negative. I don’t want to do that anymore.”

“I _love_ it,” Sylvanas said again, the look on her face serious, her eyes kind and warm.

Jaina trembled under Sylvanas’ gaze. “I hate the idea that anyone who passes on might be forced to suffer through this and not be granted a peaceful afterlife,” she said. “Doesn’t everyone deserve the true peace of death?”

Sylvanas visibly stiffened and dropped her hands to her sides. Jaina regarded her with curiosity and a bit of fear, wondering if she had said something wrong.

“Sylvanas?”

Sylvanas looked down at her boots, her face a relative mask of emotions that Jaina tried to discern. She looked deeply upset and sorrowful, but also resigned, and Jaina cautiously reached for her hands, gasping when the banshee jumped at her touch.

“When this all began, it was because I threw myself off of the Frozen Throne years ago, onto the saronite below.”

Jaina held her hands tighter. “What are you talking about?”

“I couldn’t do it anymore, Jaina,” she whispered. “Arthas destroyed me and continuing to live on like this... I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want to lead, I just wanted out. I wanted the peace of death that Arthas refused to grant me.”

Jaina thought of her dream where Sylvanas had said she talked in her sleep. Her dream where she could not save Sylvanas from Arthas. She felt guilt wash over her, even though she knew it was ridiculous, knew it was not her fault. Still, though, the way Sylvanas talked now, the self-hatred in her voice, in her whole being, Jaina wished she could have been there when it had happened, wished she could have saved her somehow.

“I saw the Shadowlands,” Sylvanas said. “I saw that I would not only not be granted the peace of death, I would be trapped in a sort of purgatory forever, I would not even grant anima to the machine of Death.”

Understanding began to dawn on Jaina and she prompted gently, “So, the val’kyr...”

“They made a pact with me, to keep me alive, and in return, I would assist however I could, do whatever was required of me by the Jailer. It was eventually apparent that just our enemies’ anima would not be enough to keep the machine powered. We would need anima from other sources. I eventually went to Helya, struck a deal with her that any souls would go to her to help with any tasks she needed help with, and then they would be funneled to the Shadowlands.

“When I was forced to burn Teldrassil, I felt a sorrow I could not have imagined ever feeling. What kept me going was knowing that those souls would serve a higher purpose. They would assist in vanquishing any threats and then they would pass into the Shadowlands and ensure that the delicate balance between Life and Death was kept. I know how it sounds, but their deaths are what will keep our world safe.”

Jaina felt numb, but she understood. A question suddenly entered her mind as she slowly processed everything Sylvanas had told her. “Is any of this related to who spoke to Vol’jin?”

“It was the Jailer. He believed I would ultimately save this world, keep the balance between the forces of Life and Death, and so far, I’ve been trying to do just that, even through being controlled by N’Zoth. I know he won’t expect this army on his doorstep.”

Sylvanas looked a bit smug now and it unsettled Jaina, though she imagined Sylvanas had earned the right to be, at least a bit. She knew Sylvanas was going through a great deal, had many personal demons, and was still trying to do the right thing. Sylvanas was better than most, and Jaina was grateful to have gotten the opportunity to get to know her for who she truly was.

“My dream the other night,” Jaina began quietly, as Sylvanas stared, “it was of you and Arthas. I imagined myself there, I imagined trying to prevent him from...” She swallowed hard and shook her head. “I couldn’t save you in my dream,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion, “and I couldn’t save anyone when it was actually happening.”

Sylvanas smiled a bit, searching Jaina’s eyes and squeezing her hands as she said, “You saved me from the Stockades.” Jaina barely managed to nod and Sylvanas continued, “You got me out so we could team up and defeat N’Zoth together. Perhaps, every event that led us here needed to happen, so that we could ultimately be prepared for this.”

Jaina perked up. “Thalyssra said something similar.”

Sylvanas smirked, a knowing look on her features. “She’s... quite the woman.”

Jaina wanted to smirk back, but she merely smiled gently instead, and said, “So are you.”

Sylvanas brought Jaina’s hands up and kissed her knuckles. “The same goes for you, Jaina,” she said. “I hope you know that.”

Jaina, in response, tugged her hands out of Sylvanas’ grasp to fling her arms around the banshee’s neck, holding her tight. Sylvanas wrapped her arms around Jaina’s back, nuzzling her neck. They stayed that way for a couple of minutes before separating and lifting the vials that would transport them to Ny’alotha.

A cheeky smirk on her lips, Sylvanas held hers up. “Cheers.”

Jaina smiled and clinked her vial with the banshee’s. “Cheers.”

They uncapped the vials and sipped them, and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun writing Helya in this chapter, hopefully that came across.
> 
> Next chapter is full of my should be patented terribly written battle scenes that you may remember if you read _Trust Me_, lmao. Hopefully they’re a bit better this time around.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading, and I really, truly enjoy the feedback as well.


	11. “That Could Never Be a Problem”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Sylvanas flexed her fingers, groaning a little. “Small price to pay,” she said again._

Jaina and Sylvanas landed in Ny’alotha and the first thing Jaina noticed was just how red everything seemed. Tall buildings with intricate architecture surrounded them and Jaina gasped at the sheer amount of enemies that stood before them. Nathanos and Thalyssra were already fighting in the streets of the city. Thalyssra was primarily using arcane spells to inflict massive damage and Nathanos was firing off arrow after arrow while expertly dodging hits.

“There’s too many!” Thalyssra cried.

“Where _are_ they?” Nathanos shouted, his voice a raging growl.

“We’re here!” Jaina called, as she and Sylvanas closed the distance between them.

“About time, Proudmoore!” Nathanos gritted, as he and Sylvanas stood with their backs together so they could fight from all angles.

“You two had it!” Jaina said with a dismissive wave of her hand as she moved to Thalyssra.

“Maybe...” Thalyssra murmured, “but I’m glad you’re both here in any case.”

Jaina smiled and she and Thalyssra put up their hands, erecting a shield in front of them that moved when they did. Enemies that moved toward the shield bounced off when they hit it, taking great damage from blasts of swirling arcane energy. Behind them, Jaina could hear Nathanos and Sylvanas nocking and firing a constant stream of arrows, with Sylvanas supplementing the damage with piercing screams that sent enemies fleeing in fear.

They continued to make their way through the city, moving between buildings and through alleys, fighting off any monsters immediately in their way and doing their damnedest to avoid bigger creatures that generally seemed to be ignoring them.

“Where would he be?” Jaina asked, firing off blasts of frost while Thalyssra held the shield. They swapped off after a few moments so the elder mage could pelt their enemies with bright hits of arcane while Jaina protected them.

“I don’t know,” Sylvanas said, and Jaina detected fear and apprehension in her voice. “This place was sparsely populated when I was here. He must be expecting me back.”

“Where is the army of souls?” pressed Thalyssra. “Shouldn’t they be here soon?”

As if on cue, the sounds of running feet slapping the ground filled their ears and they all looked behind them, flooding with relief at the sight of a stampeding veritable horde of souls running towards them. They bowed upon reaching the group and the four bowed back.

“Well, this should make things considerably easier,” said Nathanos, as the souls went to work attacking throngs of enemies with melee abilities.

Jaina watched as they fought, her breath catching in her throat. These souls used to be living, breathing people and now they were just a group of shambling bodies. They were talented fighters from what Jaina could see, so clearly their training under Helya had gone well. But even so, it hurt to see and Jaina felt her throat close up briefly and she swallowed hard.

She turned away, but not before catching Sylvanas’ eye, finding a similar expression on her face. They held one another’s gaze for a moment, Jaina softening, realizing just how guilty Sylvanas felt over actions that were not her own. Thalyssra and Nathanos moved up with the group, continuing to weave their way through the city, leaving Jaina and Sylvanas alone. Jaina took one of Sylvanas’ hands in hers, bringing it to her lips and kissing the banshee’s knuckles. She heard a soft, relieved-sounding sigh from Sylvanas and she looked up into dim red eyes, giving the banshee a faint, sweet smile that was returned.

Jaina knew she would never be able to erase the guilt Sylvanas felt over what she had done under N’Zoth’s control, but she could at least be there for her and provide comfort when it was needed. They looked at one another for a few more moments, then Jaina gingerly let go of Sylvanas’ hand and walked quickly to catch up with Thalyssra and Nathanos. Sylvanas followed, their boots clicking on the stone, the sound echoing in the air.

Ahead, more enemies were gathered, and they seemed to be blocking the way forward. Jaina noted that the ground seemed to be marred by some sort of corruption and she knelt to brush it with her fingers. She stood and was about to ask what, exactly, it could be, when the souls finished defeating every enemy standing in their path, revealing Il’gynoth in a truly horrifying form. He seemed to be merged with the architecture of the surrounding buildings and Jaina wondered how they could possibly defeat him. His essence seemed to be everywhere, spreading over the ground and up the walls. His corruption stretched as far as the eye could see, appearing to cover the entire city.

Jaina was still contemplating what to do when Sylvanas drew the dagger, bringing it up to more closely inspect the azerite glowing within it. Her face was a grimace and her hand shook, but she managed to kneel down and run the tip along the corruption on the ground. The red and black substance began to change colors almost immediately, taking on the gold, blue, and white hues of the azerite within the dagger.

Sylvanas stood as Jaina, Thalyssra, and Nathanos stared in awe. She ran the blade over the corruption that coated several buildings. Jaina could see her wincing at the pain, but Sylvanas kept at it, the corruption becoming purified, the buildings now beautiful shades of gold, blue, and white.

Even the sky changed as the rest of their surroundings did, the reds and blacks slowly receding. Sylvanas sheathed the dagger and grasped her own hand, rubbing the aching pain out of it. Jaina moved to her, studying her fingers.

“How’s your hand?” she asked gently.

Sylvanas dropped both hands to her sides. “Still burns,” she admitted, “but it’s a small price to pay for what it can apparently do.” As she spoke, she nodded towards their now much more colorful surroundings.

“I guess I never realized just how powerful azerite can be,” Jaina breathed, running her hand along a wall.

“Scary, isn’t it?” Sylvanas said, meeting her gaze.

Behind them, Jaina could hear Thalyssra and Nathanos talking amongst themselves and she was grateful to have another small moment alone with Sylvanas.

“It is,” Jaina agreed. “Can we expect something similar with N’Zoth, do you think?”

“Possibly. He was alone last time I was here, I imagine he’ll be well-protected this time. We’ll likely have to fight through many more of his forces before we even get to face him, but it should work in the same way.” She sighed and looked away and Jaina fixated on her profile. “I should have waited,” she muttered. “I should have waited until the army was ready and made certain the dagger would kill him.”

“We’re here now,” Jaina whispered, “don’t focus on the past.”

Sylvanas nodded and stepped closer to Jaina, their shoulders brushing. They shared a quick glance and Sylvanas gave her a subtle wink before continuing to walk through the city. Jaina watched her go, a pleasant warmth spreading throughout her body. With a cautious look out of the corner of her eye towards Thalyssra and Nathanos, who still appeared to be conversing, she began to follow Sylvanas.

Jaina watched as Sylvanas tested the dagger on lesser creatures, grimacing in pain the longer she held it. Jaina caught up with her, matching her long strides. Carefully, Jaina withdrew the weapon from Sylvanas’ hand and tucked it into the sheath on the banshee’s belt. Sylvanas drew her bow and absently fired arrows perfectly at the remaining enemies nearby, then turned to Jaina with a curious look.

“Save it for stronger enemies,” Jaina said, taking Sylvanas’ hand in hers and rubbing her palm soothingly with her fingertips. “We don’t need to purify this whole place, not when it means you’ll be in this much pain.”

Sylvanas flexed her fingers, groaning a little. “Small price to pay,” she said again. Jaina noticed as Sylvanas walked off, cleansing more as she went, that the banshee began rubbing her arm and the realization struck that the pain seemed to not be limited to her hand.

“She’s stubborn, like you,” Thalyssra said, not unkindly, as she stood beside Jaina.

“I just want to help,” Jaina said, as she had several times before, shaking her head.

“‘Stubborn’ is putting it mildly, I’d say,” came Nathanos’ voice from behind them. Jaina turned to face him as he stalked off, following his Warchief. She wanted to press him for more, but she resisted. She was afraid she may end up revealing more than she should, especially about her own feelings.

Once Nathanos was out of sight, Thalyssra nodded in the direction that Sylvanas had gone, then patted Jaina’s arm and caught her gaze, giving her a knowing look. “There’s something there...”

Jaina turned to her, inhaling a bit sharply. “I-I...” she stammered, as Thalyssra smiled. “I’m not sure what’s happening...”

Thalyssra shrugged. “All that matters is that you care about her and she you.” She patted Jaina’s arm again and started to walk off, saying, “You’ll figure it out.”

“I’m sorry,” Jaina blurted, and she watched as Thalyssra turned and walked back to her, placing her hands on her shoulders.

“We’re friends, Jaina,” she said, looking into her eyes. “Our story isn’t meant to go the other way, remember? There’s no need for guilt.”

Jaina nodded and pulled her into an embrace, asking timidly, “And... we’ll always be friends, won’t we?”

Thalyssra chuckled into her hair, holding her tight. “We better be.”

Jaina felt comforted by Thalyssra’s words and she hummed contentedly.

Thalyssra drew back and patted her shoulders. “Come on, my dear friend,” she said with a grin, “we’ve got an Old God to kill.”

***

The quartet spent the next several hours cleansing as much of Ny’alotha as possible. They had not seen even so much as a hint as to where N’Zoth could be hiding. Jaina kept an eye on Sylvanas, forcing her to take breaks to avoid working so hard, to avoid the pain becoming too much to bear. Sylvanas always grumbled, insisting she was fine, but Jaina was more insistent than she, so the banshee begrudgingly heeded Jaina’s words.

Jaina wondered if Sylvanas believed the pain was punishment for all she had done under N’Zoth’s control, that perhaps, she believed this was her repentance. She shivered at the thought and took Sylvanas aside as Nathanos, Thalyssra, and the army of souls pressed on, killing all in their way.

“Sylvanas...”

“Hm?”

Jaina considered how to ask her question, drawing in a breath when Sylvanas glanced around, seemingly checking that they were alone, and pulled her into a deep kiss, one hand in her hair and the other on the small of her back, holding her close.

Jaina drew back first, panting softly, searching Sylvanas’ eyes. The banshee looked content and Jaina felt awful that she was about to spoil Sylvanas’ seemingly decent mood. Shaking off the fog in her mind from the unexpected—though not unwelcome—kiss, she asked, “Are you punishing yourself?”

Sylvanas just stared, slowly bringing her hands away from Jaina and letting them drop to her sides. When she spoke, her voice was cold. “With the dagger?” Jaina nodded. “Yes.” Jaina bit her lip and took a step backward at the reply. “I need to,” she said simply. “Look what I’ve done. This is the least I can do—at least I’m suffering.”

Jaina’s mouth dropped open. “How can you say that, after what’s happened? You’ve already suffered, you don’t deserve to suffer any more, Sylvanas.” Sylvanas looked unconvinced and Jaina felt a fire within her. “You were _tortured_!” she cried suddenly and she clapped her hands over her mouth at her outburst. She did not know how far ahead Nathanos and Thalyssra were, and even though she could not see them, she worried they may still be in earshot. The look on Sylvanas’ face was unreadable. If Nathanos had heard, Jaina would have revealed a secret not her own and she knew that was not something easily forgiven. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I didn’t mean to—“

Sylvanas held up a hand and Jaina quieted. She walked close to Jaina and took her hands in hers. “I hope he heard,” she said solemnly. “I’ve been trying to decide how to tell him, how to even slip it in a conversation. ‘Surprise, I was tortured’ doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue.”

Jaina’s lip trembled at how ruefully amused Sylvanas seemed. She wanted to say something, but words failed her and she merely shook her head instead, looking down at their hands.

“Nathanos aside, it’s been a long time since anyone’s—“ Sylvanas stopped herself and Jaina realized she was holding her breath, waiting for the banshee to continue. “Since anyone’s... cared... about me.” She squeezed Jaina’s hands as Jaina exhaled shakily. “Longer still since I felt the same way. It’s... difficult... for me to express what that means,” she whispered.

Jaina looked up, finding Sylvanas’ lips hovering near her own, red eyes searching her blue ones. Still holding one another’s hands, they leaned in, sharing such a beautiful kiss that Jaina felt rocked to her core. Time seemed to freeze, as it had in the Stockades, and Jaina felt her whole body grow warm as she relaxed, a deep feeling of comfort washing over her. All of her doubts and worries and fears disappeared as they kissed, and she reluctantly pulled back only when she remembered that they still had a job to do.

They shared brief smiles and walked off together, eventually finding Nathanos and Thalyssra tucked away in an alley, speaking quietly. The two looked up when Sylvanas and Jaina saw them and Jaina’s face fell at their expressions. Nathanos had heard, she was sure of it. She glanced at Sylvanas, finding her eyes locked with Nathanos’ and she stepped away as Thalyssra walked over.

Silently, they moved further away from Sylvanas and Nathanos, beginning to walk with the army of souls, swiftly vanquishing any enemies in sight. Jaina could only hear the hushed voices of the two, but she could not make out their conversation, nor did she want to do so. Guilt flooded her, even if Sylvanas had expressed her appreciation for being able to finally force herself to talk to Nathanos. She did not envy either of them, she knew the conversation would be difficult on both sides.

She did not imagine Nathanos would be angry, at least not at Sylvanas. It seemed more likely he would feel that he failed for being unable to figure it out on his own, or to be able to help in any way. She had felt the same, and she had not even known the banshee then.

She and Thalyssra walked further still and Jaina was grateful that her friend did not press her for details of her conversation with Sylvanas. The elder mage merely squeezed her shoulder as they blasted their way through hideous creatures, big and small. Jaina tried to stay focused on what they were doing, but her thoughts kept drifting to Sylvanas and Nathanos. She wondered how the conversation was going, worrying that things may become so tense and uncomfortable between the two that their mission may be jeopardized, and she would be to blame.

She did not have to wonder long, because Sylvanas and Nathanos emerged from where they had been speaking, the pair looking somber. Sylvanas almost immediately brandished the dagger and began making quick work of the enemies that still lingered, corruption receding once more, the buildings taking on the look of azerite. It was a beautiful sight, but it was not without cost, as Sylvanas seemed to grow weaker with each passing minute.

Jaina watched the banshee endure, watched as she fought through the pain to purify all she could. Jaina was almost certain Sylvanas was pushing so hard because her conversation with Nathanos upset her, but for the moment, she did not press it.

They reached a portal in a part of the city that was far darker than any other part they had seen. It almost seemed as though it was permanently stuck in nighttime. Sylvanas cleansed the area as she had done with the rest of the city, but it was still dark and dreary. The four looked at the portal and Jaina finally got a decent look at Nathanos, a chill running through her when he caught her eye. She held his gaze for a few moments, finding several emotions in his expression. There was pain and sorrow and they were mixed with guilt and regret and she felt deeply for him. Regardless of all that had happened, past and present, Nathanos harbored a great amount of love and respect for Sylvanas, and to learn that something so horrifying had happened to someone he loved... Jaina did not know how he could bear it.

She blinked back sudden tears and looked away, sucking in a breath. She turned back towards the portal, reaching up to grasp her father’s pendant in trembling fingers, needing something tangible to hold. She heard Nathanos sigh and a chill went through her again.

“Hmm,” murmured Thalyssra, examining the portal.

“So,” Sylvanas began, Jaina feeling bewildered at the banshee’s rather relaxed, sardonic tone, “who’d like to be the first to step through the ominous portal of certain doom?”

“I will, my lady,” Nathanos offered, his voice sounding quiet and reserved.

“Thank you, Nathanos,” Sylvanas all but whispered, their eyes locking. Jaina saw them exchange extremely faint smiles and she hoped that meant they were all right, or at least, that they would be eventually. They had known one another so long, she could not stand the thought that the bond between them may end up irreversibly broken.

“I’ll join him,” Thalyssra spoke up. “The portal itself isn’t giving away any of what it conceals within, from what I can see, so we may as well jump in and see what—or who—awaits.”

Sylvanas nodded and stepped back while Nathanos, Thalyssra, and the army of souls filed through. Once they were alone, Jaina looked to Sylvanas. She did not dare ask what she wished, she would let Sylvanas open up if she so desired. Sylvanas’ gaze was fixed on the portal and Jaina dropped her own gaze to the ground, fingers still brushing the pendant, finding a small amount of peace in the repeated action.

“It went better than I thought it would,” Sylvanas shared, folding her arms behind her back and rocking on her heel. “I thought he would yell, but he understood why I had wanted to keep it from him. That helped, I think.”

Still looking down, Jaina whispered, “He _loves_ you. He wanted to help you and he couldn’t. He feels guilty and angry at the world that he couldn’t figure it out, that he wasn’t able to save you from what you faced.”

She felt Sylvanas’ gaze burning into her from out of the corner of her eye. “Seems the two of you have a lot in common,” Sylvanas said gently, and Jaina nodded, not saying a word, as the banshee’s gaze softened.

“We do,” Jaina said, once several silent moments had gone by. And they did. Everything she had said... was true. “That’s... not a problem, is it?” She finally looked up, finding exceedingly soft and kind red eyes looking at her, a twitch of a smile turning the banshee’s lips upwards.

“No, Jaina,” she murmured, “that could never be a problem.” Jaina let out the breath she did not realize she had been holding, a shy smile on her lips as Sylvanas grinned. The banshee held out her arm and Jaina took it, her cheeks warm. “Ready for this?”

“I am.”

Together, they stepped through, finding themselves in an even darker corner of the city. Jaina shivered at the cold, gently dropping Sylvanas’ arm to pull up her hood and draw her cloak more closely about her shoulders. She drew her staff and she and Sylvanas made their way over to Nathanos, Thalyssra, and the army of souls.

Before them stood all manner of creatures and tendrils, including many faceless ones, who began to walk towards them. The souls moved forward, beginning to attack in earnest, as the four readied their own attacks. Sylvanas drew the dagger once more, carving through their enemies, spinning and twirling, almost as though she was dancing with them, all the while painting dying enemies and the world the colors of azerite, the residual corruption from Il’gynoth slowly receding once again, as it had outside the portal.

Soon, there was nothing left, only an empty arena, and no way back out to the part of the city from which they had come, as the portal had disappeared. The four stood looking about, prepared for more enemies, but none came...

...Until glowing orange eyes appeared in the distance and Sylvanas growled faintly, the dagger positively glowing in her hand. Jaina and Thalyssra prepared a shield to protect them from frontal attacks as Nathanos drew and readied his bow. Sylvanas was flipping the dagger in her hand, eyes locked with the massive, distant form of N’Zoth.

“So, blasphemers, it all comes down to this.” His voice was smooth and deep, a hint of a chuckle rumbling within. “I’ve seen what you’ve done to the city, and I must say, I do appreciate the new color scheme.”

“It needed it dearly,” Sylvanas deadpanned, “I’m pleased you like it.”

Jaina thought she heard N’Zoth grumble and she almost smiled. It seemed that Sylvanas had gotten under his skin, perhaps made him a bit nervous. That could only be good for them, she thought.

She was starting to feel more confident, more relieved, when N’Zoth suddenly hurtled a ball of fire towards them that went straight through their shield, striking all of them, setting their armor alight. Jaina reacted quickly, freezing all of them to put out the fire and prevent any lasting damage. She thawed everyone quickly and they abandoned the shield in favor of spreading out.

N’Zoth was laughing, an awful, deep sound that reverberated throughout the room, making Jaina shiver, thoroughly unsettling her. She looked towards her companions, now far away from one another, finding similar expressions on their faces.

“I’m ready for you now,” N’Zoth intoned, “good luck getting close enough to hit me with that puny _toy_ again.”

Jaina saw Sylvanas stiffen, saw her grip on the brightly shining dagger tighten. She barely looked back to N’Zoth in time to see him send another ball of fire flying towards the banshee, crying out when Sylvanas did not attempt to move to dodge it. She merely held up the dagger in both hands and waited.

The ball suddenly changed course.

It connected briefly with the dagger and immediately went flying back into N’Zoth, causing a bloodcurdling scream to erupt from the Old God. Jaina was in shock, staring open-mouthed at Sylvanas.

“How...” she squeaked out and was met with a smirk from the banshee.

“Wondered if that would work...” Sylvanas mused.

Jaina had not considered that N’Zoth’s magic could _literally_ be used against him in such a fashion, but it certainly added some more flavor to the battle.

N’Zoth roared and sent a ball flying towards Jaina, who blinked out of range just as Sylvanas dove in front of her with the dagger, reflecting the attack once again. N’Zoth howled in pain and anger and Jaina could see his form on fire, burning quickly. She wondered if that was enough to eventually kill him, or if it would just serve to slow him down.

Enraged, N’Zoth shouted and cursed Sylvanas’ name, sending out attack after attack, no longer just fire, but ice, arcane, and shadow, in quick succession. Jaina, Nathanos, and Thalyssra dodged most attacks, with Jaina freezing them from the ones they could not move away from in time. Sylvanas continued reflecting the majority of the attacks, once again gliding across the arena like a trained dancer, her movements quick, her body flowing like water.

N’Zoth’s form was steadily being destroyed, or at least, it appeared to be. He continued to send out attacks with an ever-increasing fervor and Jaina began to grow a bit weak, beginning to run out of mana from keeping her companions safe. Thalyssra had been helping as well, in addition to attacking N’Zoth, and she knew her friend had to be growing weak, too. Nathanos was firing off arrow after arrow, showing no signs of slowing down, and Sylvanas looked positively refreshed even through all of her dazzling movements across the battlefield. Jaina was grateful to have rangers who could still keep up the attack so she and Thalyssra could rest briefly and refresh themselves.

The two mages stepped away, both reaching for canteens of water attached to their belts and drinking deeply. “How long can we keep doing this?” Jaina asked, growing fearful.

“I’m not sure,” Thalyssra whispered, “but I hope Sylvanas has a contingency plan. Neither she nor her army can get in melee range. I don’t know what she can do, I don’t even know if our own attacks are truly working...”

Jaina gulped down a full canteen. She had two left, as did Thalyssra. She hoped they would be enough. They went back to the fight and Jaina noticed that the dagger was now gleaming so brightly that she had to turn away to protect her eyes. It seemed that every attack Sylvanas reflected back at N’Zoth made it even more powerful than it already was. That was a boon, certainly, but Sylvanas still could not get in range to strike him.

Unless...

“Sylvanas!” she shouted, as she tried to catch Sylvanas’ attention. “Throw it!” She finally saw the banshee’s face clearly...

Sylvanas was smirking.

She already knew what to do. With a wink, she lifted the dagger, pure azerite energy nearly erupting from it. She hurled it, end over end, and time seemed to slow down. Jaina, Thalyssra, and Nathanos all watched as the dagger, azerite energy bursting from it, soared through the air and landed square in N’Zoth’s right eye.

The sounds that erupted from him were almost deafening, screams and cries and shouted words of anger filled the air and everyone’s ears. Over the noise erupting from him, one sentence got through, chilling Jaina to the bone, “This... is not... the end...”

His eyes finally darkened and his massive form began to fall forward. Jaina quickly gathered everyone together, freezing them all as the Old God’s body crashed hard on top of their ice forms. After a few moments, Jaina thawed everyone and they emerged unharmed from beneath his broken body. Jaina and Thalyssra embraced, breathing heavily, as Nathanos went to Sylvanas, helping her dig at the body, clearly trying to recover the dagger.

“It’s over,” Jaina breathed, “N’Zoth is gone.” She hoped it was true. The Old God had cryptically alluded to his death not being the end, but she hoped it was just him trying to frighten them before he perished.

“Now we just have to fix the machine of Death and we can close this rather crazy chapter of all our lives,” said Thalyssra, a note of humor in her tone.

Jaina and Thalyssra walked over to Sylvanas and Nathanos and helped them look for the dagger, groaning as N’Zoth’s body squelched and dribbled ichor everywhere.

“Tides...” Jaina muttered, as they continued to search, “ugh...”

Sylvanas chuckled and Jaina watched her raise both obnoxiously tall eyebrows as she pulled her arm free, dagger safely in hand. Jaina noticed immediately that Sylvanas no longer seemed to be in pain holding it and she smiled in relief, as the banshee caught her eye and read her mind.

“The power of N’Zoth is gone,” Sylvanas explained. “My power and the azerite still remains, but I can hold it now without pain.”

Jaina summoned a small rainfall over all of them, washing away all dirt, grime, and ichor. Once they were clean, she dried them as best she could with fireballs on her palms, some residual dampness remaining. Sylvanas tucked the dagger back into its sheath.

“Let’s go home,” she said.

“Wait,” Jaina said and everyone turned to look at her. “We should take something back with us. Proof that we killed him.”

Sylvanas went back to digging at N’Zoth’s body, a determined expression on her face. The four dug together, eventually pulling out the massive eyeball that had been struck with the dagger. “How about this?” she asked smugly.

Jaina and Thalyssra constructed an arcane bubble to keep it in, Jaina grimacing as it floated in the air, dripping fluids inside the bubble. “Ugh,” she said again, “I guess that’ll work...” She began to clean them all again, but Sylvanas held up a hand.

“Leave it this time,” she said, her tone thoughtful, “let them see us covered in ichor and entrails.”

Nathanos growled, shaking off a few bits of N’Zoth and lifting his vial. “Where shall we address everyone?”

“They’re probably at the Chamber of Heart questioning Wrathion and Magni,” Jaina said. “I’ll port us there when we’re out of this place.”

The group took a last look at N’Zoth, Jaina’s eyes widening as the Old God’s body began to break apart into small pieces that floated through the air, the color of dried blood. That had to be his anima, Jaina realized. Sylvanas had been right, N’Zoth would certainly contribute a great deal of the substance.

Once his entire body had dissolved into anima that floated away, the four pulled their vials from their belts and drank, their worlds going black.


	12. “You’re Playing a Dangerous Game”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully the battles weren’t too terribly written in the previous chapter, lmao.

They landed safely back in Helheim, near the ruler herself.

“Well?” Helya intoned. “Were you su—“ She stopped herself and Jaina could not suppress her smile at Helya’s look of shock and wonder when she spotted the giant floating eye in its arcane enclosure.

“If you’re asking if we were successful, I’d say so,” Sylvanas said with a grin, patting the bubble.

Helya’s lips slowly turned upwards in an incredibly unsettling grin of her own, but Jaina stayed calm. “Good, good. The anima from N’Zoth should have already made its way into the Maw. The souls are on their way back here first and will soon be journeying to the Maw as well.”

“Could I ask something?” Jaina spoke up suddenly.

Helya turned to her, the grin fading. “Lady Proudmoore,” she acknowledged, her voice booming throughout Helheim. She inclined her head towards Jaina. “Speak, then.”

Jaina stood up a little straighter, trying to hide the fact that she was deeply nervous. “Sylvanas has said that innocents as well as creatures grant anima upon their deaths. She said N’Zoth should grant a very large amount and you said his anima is on the way, which we saw before we—“

“Is there a point to this recap, Lady Proudmoore?” Helya inquired, and Jaina could hear boredom and irritation in her tone.

“Yes,” Jaina said, holding firm. “The point being that since N’Zoth is worth so much and since we’ll be continually killing creatures, do these souls need to be sent? Or could they go on to a peaceful afterlife and we’ll pick up the slack with other creatures we kill?”

“Hmm...” Helya actually sounded as though she was considering Jaina’s words and Jaina felt a rush of relief at the admittedly small victory. “More souls have come since you’ve all been away, presumably from N’Zoth’s minions killing so many of your forces across Azeroth.” Jaina winced, her shoulders slumping. More eventual fodder for the Machine of Death, it seemed. The relief she had felt began to fade, then Helya spoke again. “How about this...”

Jaina listened intently, waiting for her to continue, vaguely aware that Sylvanas, Nathanos, and Thalyssra had moved up to stand beside her, the four of them a united front.

“How about I keep them all here, in my service, until you all can confirm that the machine of Death is no longer in danger?”

“That’s a fair offer,” Jaina agreed. “We’ll do it, and when Death is—“

“When Death is _secure_,” Helya cut in, “I’ll release the souls to their appropriate... end point... shall we say.” Her eyes gleamed brightly and she had the smallest of smiles on her face.

Jaina nodded, saying confidently, “We agree to your terms.”

“Good.” Helya’s smile widened to another unsettling grin. “You drove a hard bargain, but I’ve seen the kind of results you can produce. I know you won’t fail me.”

Jaina flashed a bright smile. “We’ll get it done and report back as soon as we can.”

Helya gave her a nod and waved a hand at them. “Go on, then.”

The four bowed deeply and turned, walking out of Helheim together. Jaina exhaled deeply, thoroughly relieved that Helya had agreed to wait on sending the souls to be harvested of anima.

“Well,” Thalyssra began, “at least we have a chance to ensure those souls get peace, but we should probably head to the Chamber of Heart before we do anything else. I imagine most everyone will be questioning Wrathion and Magni by now about what they know.”

“I’m taking the fall,” Sylvanas said suddenly, addressing Jaina as she tried to protest. “I’m not letting you take responsibility for breaking me out.”

Jaina frowned, but she still nodded, albeit reluctantly. She knew this was a battle she would not be able to win. Instead, she hoped everything would work out, hoped that her busting Sylvanas from the Stockades would ultimately not matter. She glanced at the giant eye next to her. At least no one would be able to accuse them of not bringing enough evidence of their good deed.

“All right,” Jaina breathed, casting a portal to Silithus, “let’s hope for the best.”

The four stepped through the portal, then made their way into the Chamber of Heart. Thalyssra had been right, the Chamber was filled with Alliance and Horde alike, voices echoing off the walls.

“You’re telling us Jaina Proudmoore gave you the dagger of Xal’atath and then you... imbued it with azerite so that it could—_somehow_—kill an Old God?”

Tyrande was fuming when they walked in. They hung back for the moment, unnoticed.

“Well, actually, Lady Whisperwind, the weapon was given tae us by the First Arcanist—“ Magni began, and Jaina saw Tyrande fix him with perhaps the coldest stare she had ever seen.

“If you’re _quite_ finished—“

“Tyrande—“ Anduin mumbled.

“Quiet, Anduin,” Tyrande snapped, and Jaina’s eyes went wide, “you do _not_ get to speak.”

Jaina saw Anduin looking appropriately chastised, color rising in his cheeks as he nodded and lowered his gaze. More voices began to spill over, people yelling and shouting over one another, and Jaina began to feel her head spin.

“If you’re all done sniping at each other,” Sylvanas interrupted, to scattered gasps, “there’s something you should see.”

The four stepped to the left and right, revealing the bubbled eye floating behind them. Sylvanas drew the dagger from its sheath, wielding it with a flourish, then holding it out in both hands, presenting it to everyone in the Chamber for inspection. Jaina saw everyone’s eyes flick to the bubble, the dagger, and then to each of them, taking in their appearance, the ichor and pieces of N’Zoth still clinging to the dagger as well as their clothes and armor.

Tyrande ignored both the eye and the dagger, stepping close to Sylvanas and saying, her voice low and dangerous, “You _dare_ show your face after all you’ve done?” She reached up, her hand closing around Sylvanas’ throat, lifting her off the ground. The dagger fell from the banshee’s grasp, clattering to the floor, the azerite within still making it glow brightly.

Nathanos growled and took a step forward. Jaina, knowing he was just as upset, if not more so, than she, forced herself to remain calm and put out a shaky hand in front of him, blocking his path. He turned to her with anger in his eyes and she looked at him pleadingly, trying to stay strong for the both of them. She watched as his rage slowly faded, replaced with annoyance and reluctant acceptance, as he stayed where he was.

Jaina felt Thalyssra’s hand on her forearm and she turned, seeing the elder mage staring forward at Tyrande and Sylvanas as she rubbed Jaina’s arm, keeping her relaxed. Jaina mentally thanked her, once again grateful for a friend who could help keep her calm under pressure.

She watched as Sylvanas stayed still in Tyrande’s grasp, even as the banshee sputtered in her attempt to speak. Eventually, Malfurion stepped in, laying a hand on Tyrande’s arm. He said nothing, but Tyrande finally released Sylvanas... heaving her effortlessly into a nearby wall.

Jaina drew back her hand and Nathanos flew to Sylvanas to help her. Jaina clenched her fists, fighting against the urge to help, but they needed to keep up appearances. They needed to play by the rules if they were all going to get out of this. She felt Thalyssra’s hand close gently around her wrist and she unclenched her hands, calming a little.

She turned, watching as Vereesa cautiously stepped near. She gave the youngest Windrunner sister a nod and a kind look, tears beginning to creep into her eyes. Vereesa may have defended her the last time they saw each other, but Jaina still felt enormously guilty for having walked out on her in Stormwind.

Vereesa met her eyes, giving her a nod in return before tentatively moving towards Sylvanas, and Jaina felt like weeping. She was not certain what she expected, but she realized that she wanted a hug, wanted Vereesa to fling her arms around her neck as she usually did, in excitement and relief to see her.

Feeling drained and upset, Jaina slowly turned back to Tyrande, finding her with a smug smirk that made Jaina’s blood boil. Jaina, in her grief after Theramore, had nearly drowned Orgrimmar. It had taken her years to recover and she wondered if Tyrande may require the same. She hoped not, she hoped that the woman could find peace before she did anything she may regret, before she fractured the tentative peace still holding between the Alliance and Horde.

Steeling herself, Jaina took a step forward, locking her gaze with Tyrande’s as the Night Warrior regarded her with what Jaina recognized as pure hatred. “As you can see, we’ve brought proof of N’Zoth’s defeat,” she said, as calmly as she could.

“And?” Tyrande questioned. Jaina just stared. “You may have defeated N’Zoth, but that still does not prove the claim that Windrunner was under his control.”

Jaina was fuming. “Do you truly believe that if Sylvanas was against us that she would have pushed so incredibly hard for his defeat?”

Tyrande narrowed her eyes. “I think she cares only for _herself_ and once she realized that going against both the Alliance _and_ the Horde would be her downfall, she scrambled for a way out and tried to find someone gullible enough to believe her obvious lies.”

Various responses, almost all of them angry and purely emotional, raced through Jaina’s head. She was vaguely aware that Thalyssra had left her side to attend to Sylvanas and she found herself wishing for her friend’s levelheadedness.

“I saw her come back from Ny’alotha,” she began quietly, not entirely certain what she was planning to say. At this point, she was so heated that she barely cared if what she said was only out of rage. She would speak from the heart, and if Tyrande was still blind to the truth... so be it. “I saw her come back, battered and bleeding and in horrible shape. She had the dagger with her and she barely had the strength to climb up the steps to Windrunner Spire. I went to her and she collapsed in my arms, utterly exhausted and weak. I held her while she rested and recovered some of her strength. She only moved when she was able to stand and her first thought was of going back to finish N’Zoth.”

“Right...” Tyrande drawled. Her voice was dripping with venom and disbelief. She shook her head. “What a tale we can tell the next generation, of a hateful, murderous _monster_ with no regard for anyone’s life but her own.”

Jaina was shaking, her mouth open slightly, her lower lip trembling. Tyrande was not even attempting to comprehend a single word, and was instead believing the exact opposite of what she had said. She felt a hand on her shoulder and she looked over, finding Alleria next to her, an understanding expression on her face. She felt suddenly stronger. Alleria, of all people, was with her, providing support. With a renewed feeling of hope, she prepared herself to speak again.

“She led me inside,” she continued, as she felt arcane flow through her, “and she showed me the cellar where she spent months being tortured by Azshara. I saw the chains on the wall. She was telling the truth.”

“And you don’t think she had something prepared to—“

“No, I do not,” she said hotly. “Azshara was there, too. Dead. Sylvanas explained everything, all that she went through, how the dagger gained its power, what Azshara did to her before finally turning her loose on N’Zoth.”

“None of this is at all convincing,” Tyrande said. “All you’ve managed to do is weave a bedtime story, something grandiose, but wholly unbelievable.”

Jaina stiffened and took another step forward. Her entire body began to hum and glow with power and she saw several people take a step back as she approached Tyrande. She was ready for a fight and she would not back down if Tyrande wanted to give her one.

“I don’t know what I can say to convince you of anything anymore,” she said, her voice low. “You’re looking at multiple eyewitnesses who spoke with Sylvanas while N’Zoth still had her under his thumb, who spoke with her after she freed herself, who _fought alongside her_ to bring down N’Zoth!” She took another step forward, standing a foot from Tyrande, staring her down as the Night Warrior did the same. “You only want to believe your own twisted narrative.” She took one last step forward, Tyrande standing her ground, the Night Warrior’s eyes dark and empty of emotion. “I pity you.”

She turned on her heel and walked over to Sylvanas, kneeling at her side. She finally saw the extent of what Tyrande’s powerful throw had done, though Sylvanas was already healing. Her blood, however, still stained her hair, the attack having split the back of her head.

Jaina felt Vereesa’s gaze on her and the shame from having left Stormwind so suddenly burned her cheeks. She met Vereesa’s eyes, an apology ready on her lips. Vereesa just shook her head, a hint of a smile on her face. She reached out to cup Jaina’s cheek in her palm and the look of understanding and appreciation in her eyes shook Jaina to her core. She gave Vereesa a small smile in return, then the two turned to Sylvanas, checking over her rapidly-healing injuries.

Tyrande cleared her throat as Jaina reached for Sylvanas’ hand. “Even if I did believe any of this, it does not change the fact that you committed treason by breaking her out of the Stockades.”

Jaina stood, whirling to face Tyrande. Power still coursed through her, she was still ready for a battle. Before she could reply, she heard Sylvanas roughly get to her feet and begin to speak.

“Proudmoore did nothing of the sort, Lady Whisperwind.” Jaina was about to throw herself to the wolves when she felt Sylvanas’ hand on her, fingertips stroking the small of her back, and she chewed on her lip instead. “When N’Zoth forced me to Orgrimmar, to ultimately kill Varok in the Mak’gora, he gave me some of his power to do so. When he recalled me to the Spire, he wrenched that power away, but a little was left within. And when you dragged me off to the Stockades, I used the residual magic left in me to destroy the dampener and the wards to escape.”

“I don’t believe you,” Tyrande spat.

“It’s true,” Sylvanas lied easily. “I acted alone when I escaped and I didn’t seek allies until after. Convincing Thalyssra and Proudmoore to accompany me was difficult, to say the least, but I gained their reluctant trust. I’m more than aware I don’t deserve any of it. All that I’ve done, I don’t deserve anyone’s trust or belief in me. But they gave it anyway, because they didn’t want to see this world suffer.”

She walked over to the bubbled eye of N’Zoth and pushed it so hard and so fast that it landed directly in front of Tyrande. Jaina was still reeling from what Sylvanas had said. She had taken responsibility for everything, had entirely taken the blame off of her and Thalyssra, even if Tyrande refused to believe it. Sylvanas’ narrative would not change, she would stick to her story of guilt and everyone else’s innocence.

Jaina could not allow it.

“I broke her out,” she said. She ignored the warning from Sylvanas’ nails on her back as Tyrande gave her a smug look. “I broke her out and I’d do it again.”

Thalyssra moved to stand by Jaina’s side. “I believed in my Warchief, even when the evidence suggested otherwise. Jaina and I dug deep and found the truth, then we all took on N’Zoth.”

Sylvanas’ hand relaxed and she started to rub Jaina’s back again as she said, “Helya assisted us. This all goes further than N’Zoth, further than the Black Empire. Being the Night Warrior, Elune’s own champion, I imagine you know that our world is not yet completely safe and that vanquishing N’Zoth was only the first step.”

Recognition lit up Tyrande’s face and Jaina shivered. Did Tyrande know everything? Did she know about the machine of Death and thusly, their world, being in danger?

“Elune has made me aware that things are not as they should be, yes,” she admitted, as Jaina tensed. “But as I’ve already made clear, treason is not acceptable and—“

“Even when said treason helped save the world?” Jaina cried, her fists clenched as she took a step forward, arcane pulsing throughout her body, her eyes flashing dangerously. She was vaguely aware of both Sylvanas and Thalyssra trying to restrain her.

“The world was ‘saved’ by a monster who places no value on life, and this war is far from over. As we argue, the machine of Death barely functions. Action must be taken,” Tyrande spat, “but not by any of you.”

“You knew?” Thalyssra asked incredulously. “You could have been helping all this time, but instead you just wanted to act out a vendetta?”

Tyrande was about to answer when Sylvanas spoke up. “The souls of those lost at Teldrassil went to Helya, from a deal I made with her before any of this happened, before the discovery of azerite.” Tyrande’s expression flashed from shock to anger to just the tiniest bit of confusion, and Sylvanas continued, “They trained under and worked for Helya until they were ready, and then they assisted in bringing down N’Zoth.”

Tyrande looked upset, but Jaina saw curiosity on her face as she demanded, “Where are they now?”

“Still with Helya. Depending on how much anima we can recover from other sources, they’ll either feed the machine, or they’ll pass on peacefully.”

The room was full of whispered conversations about each revelation. Jaina barely registered what was happening outside of Tyrande and the women by her side. She glanced at Anduin, Genn, and Go’el, huddled together and talking, then spied Lor’themar, Shaw, and Baine nearby doing the same. Wrathion, Magni, and Kalec were having a seemingly spirited, but hushed discussion, while Malfurion stood alone, watching his wife with what appeared to Jaina to be a conflicted expression. Vereesa and Alleria were tucked into a corner, Alleria seemingly trying to calm her youngest sister as best she could. Derek and Calia also stood nearby, quietly whispering to one another. Derek looked worried, while Calia looked angry, and Jaina saw a cruel look in her eyes that seemed to be directed at Sylvanas. She tensed at the sight. She understood Calia’s anger, but she did not need the stress of a friend not being on her side.

Tyrande licked her lips and said, “Gather enough anima so they can be at peace, and perhaps, you’ll earn yourself a lighter punishment.”

“She doesn’t deserve a punishment at all,” Jaina snapped.

“Keep it up, Proudmoore,” Tyrande drawled, “and you’ll find yourself sharing a cell with her.”

Jaina gritted her teeth. “I’ll be by her side no matter what you do.”

Tyrande looked to her husband for a moment and Jaina felt Thalyssra slip briefly between her and Sylvanas, grasping their hands. When she stepped back, Jaina realized the elder mage had slipped a small piece of paper into her hand, and likely one into Sylvanas’ as well. She discreetly tucked it away in a pouch on her belt.

Tyrande turned back as Thalyssra nodded at everyone in the room. “As... entirely pointless... as this has all been, I’m going to take my leave. There’s still work to be done.” With an almost imperceptible smile at Jaina and Sylvanas, she cast a portal and gestured for Nathanos to join her.

“The First Arcanist is right,” said Sylvanas, bending to pick up and sheathe the dagger. “Perhaps, we can continue this at a later time.” She brushed a single, gentle stroke over Jaina’s back, then shifted into her banshee form and disappeared before anyone could say a word.

Jaina faced Tyrande, feeling surprisingly calm, arcane no longer pulsing through her veins. Still, she hissed, “If you think you can imprison Sylvanas or me, you’re going to be in for a very rude awakening.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Proudmoore,” Tyrande purred.

“So are you.”

She teleported away immediately, no set destination in mind. She landed nearby, in Tanaris, in the middle of the desert, and did the only thing that seemed appropriate...

She screamed.

A bloodcurdling, deep, long scream that made every muscle in her body ache, made her heart nearly burst from her chest, made her lose her breath and begin to pant heavily. She summoned a localized rainstorm to finally wash off all the remains of N’Zoth, letting a summoned fireball mostly dry her clothes.

She paced in a circle, seconds turning into minutes, before she finally felt somewhat calm. With trembling fingers, she reached into the pouch on her belt and withdrew the scrap of paper, reading it quickly.

Coordinates.

Closing her eyes, she concentrated and teleported to the written location. She arrived in Suramar, near a cabin tucked away in the forest. She walked to the door and raised her hand to knock, gasping when the door opened before she could, revealing a freshly bathed Sylvanas, her hair still wet, dressed casually in an oversized purple tunic and gray trousers.

Sylvanas leaned against the door, a tired but warm smile on her face. She extended a hand and Jaina trembled, looking up into her eyes. Sylvanas jerked her head just slightly to gesture for her to come inside. Jaina took a deep breath, returning the smile, and let Sylvanas take her by the hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tyrande suuuucks. Honestly, I don’t have a huge issue with Tyrande in-game, I actually wish Blizz would do more with her and the night elves in general. That, and dive into what makes Sylvanas tick instead of going for shock value and explaining nothing.
> 
> Whatever!
> 
> This is why we have fic: to ignore all the aspects of canon (and lack thereof) that we don’t like and do fun shit instead.
> 
> Thanks, as usual, for clicking! Next chapter is one I’ve been itching to share for a while, featuring another part I wrote months ago, originally intended for another fic. Early on when I was writing, I realized it ultimately wouldn’t share the same tone as the fic (which ended up as an abandoned, unfinished one-shot, at least for now), so I pulled it out and set it aside. It wound up fitting perfectly here.
> 
> Next chapter should be up in the next couple of days or so (maaaybe sooner?), once I make sure everything works. <3


	13. “I Wouldn’t Have It Any Other Way”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was hoping to have this chapter up sooner, but I honestly didn’t feel like writing much this week, even with a lot of upcoming scenes basically already written in my head.
> 
> Anyway, apologies for the wait. I managed to finish another chapter I was working on and I’m starting a new one. Hopefully I can get motivated to get the story out of my head and into my notes.
> 
> Enjoy this one! Took almost 60k words to get here.

Jaina stood at the bedroom window of the cabin. When she had arrived, she had changed out of her usual clothes, their weight feeling like it was too much to bear. She had slipped into a hot bath that Sylvanas had prepared for her and then put on a light tunic and trousers, mirroring what the banshee was wearing. After, she had gone to the window, watching a strong wind gust through nearby trees.

Neither of them had spoken, but Jaina figured Sylvanas understood she did not particularly care to talk at the moment, and she was grateful. She was not certain how long she stood at the window, her mood dark and her thoughts running rampant, but she was aware of Sylvanas finally beginning to speak to her, and she sighed softly.

“It’s late,” Sylvanas said gently, stepping beside her and resting a hand on her lower back. “You should eat something and we should get some sleep for tomorrow.”

Jaina’s stomach growled a bit, but she ignored it. Her nerves were frayed and the thought of eating anything sounded like a disaster waiting to happen. She shook her head at the thought.

“I’m not hungry,” she said gruffly, her shoulders tense, “and I’m not tired.” It was true. Her exchange of threats with Tyrande had her on-edge and restless, and sleep was the furthest thing from her mind.

Sylvanas began rubbing her back soothingly and Jaina watched the banshee’s profile out of the corner of her eye. She leaned on Sylvanas’ shoulder, against the light fabric of the tunic that matched hers. She closed her eyes briefly, relaxing into Sylvanas’ touch, burrowing further against her, calming at the solid weight of Sylvanas’ body against her own. She looked out the window again. The wind was picking up, howling through the trees, and rain began to pelt the cabin, thrumming against the window. She felt Sylvanas’ other hand move to her forearm, fingers running absently over the length of her long sleeve. Sylvanas kissed her hair, then her temple, and Jaina felt something warm coiling within her, settling in the lower part of her belly.

Feeling suddenly bold, her actions fueled by the overwhelming need to touch and be touched, she turned and looked up at Sylvanas, reaching up to grasp the banshee’s tunic in one hand. She felt Sylvanas searching her eyes and in response, she reached her other hand to the back of the banshee’s head, bringing her near, pressing warm lips to chilled ones as her eyes drifted closed. There was a soft, humming moan from Sylvanas as they kissed and Jaina shivered, a gentle whimper on her own lips.

She held Sylvanas close, leaning against her, kissing her deeply. Sylvanas’ arms went around her as they kissed, and she let go of the tunic, trailing her fingers down the thin fabric of it and over the taut muscles of the banshee’s stomach. She reached the hem and slid her hand underneath, fingertips ghosting over smooth, cool skin.

She drew back, shivering again, taking a quick breath, stilling her hand. She looked up, her expression silently asking, begging, to continue. In response, Sylvanas tugged at Jaina’s tunic, bringing her closer, kissing her so suddenly and strongly that Jaina gasped and nearly melted at the banshee’s lips on hers. Sylvanas slipped both hands underneath her tunic, chilled fingers running along heated skin.

Jaina breathed shakily, Sylvanas’ touch making the pleasant heat in her belly coil again and then unfurl within her, and she grasped one of Sylvanas’ hands, leading her to the bed. They stood beside it, kissing deeply, thoughts of the uncertain future running through Jaina’s mind. She broke the kiss and looked up at Sylvanas, her hands tugging nervously at the banshee’s tunic, her fingers shaking.

“I’m afraid.” The admission tumbled quietly from her lips and she leaned against Sylvanas when the banshee wrapped both arms tightly around her, holding her with such care and affection that Jaina felt her knees go weak. She had shared her fear earlier, before they kissed in the tent, before they headed to Ny’alotha. It was true then, but even more so now.

“Me too,” Sylvanas whispered, lips ghosting over hers.

“Do you think we’re in over our heads?” Jaina asked, resting her hands on Sylvanas’ chest, near her shoulders. She looked into comforting, warm crimson eyes that seemed to soften under her gaze.

Sylvanas kissed her nose and Jaina blushed and smiled a bit, despite how she felt, despite the deep fear running through her. “We absolutely are, Proudmoore.” Sylvanas’ tone was light and a smile was dancing on her features.

Jaina kissed her, hands sliding up her long neck and slipping through silvery blonde locks. Sylvanas drew back after a few moments and kissed her nose once more.

“We are,” she said again, her voice sweet and soft, “and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

They shared nervous smiles, and Jaina felt warm all over. This was what she needed, what she wanted, and somehow, she knew everything would turn out all right.

She pulled Sylvanas’ tunic above her head, leaning forward and kissing her neck, fingers moving slowly up her stomach to naked breasts, stroking and kneading cool, soft skin. Warm fingertips brushed and pinched taut nipples and Jaina bit her lip at the wondrous sight of Sylvanas leaning her head back, a guttural moan escaping her. She pulled her own tunic above her head and kissed Sylvanas again, pushing her to the bed and climbing in, drawing the covers over them.

She held Sylvanas close, inhaling her intoxicating scent of flowers and the woods mixed with leather and metal. She slid her hands into Sylvanas’ hair, moaning when Sylvanas kissed her neck and shoulder, chilled hands running gently along her curves. She was comfortable here, despite what the future held, despite what had happened earlier with Tyrande, despite needing to head into the Shadowlands, despite going on the run for who knew how long. Sylvanas’ words had given her reassurance and the gentle touch of cool hands all over her body provided even more.

Sylvanas toyed with the material of the thin trousers Jaina wore, fingers running along the waistband, then down between her thighs. Jaina held her close, pressing their bodies together, rolling her hips against Sylvanas’ hand, a whimpering, pleading moan in the back of her throat. Sylvanas pulled off Jaina’s trousers and underwear at once, then sat up against the headboard, inviting Jaina onto her lap. Jaina carefully straddled her, nervous excitement flowing through her as she settled in, a trembling breath on her lips as she watched Sylvanas look upon her with hungry eyes, the banshee’s gaze drifting over every inch of her. A rumbling moan from Sylvanas and the slight smirk on her lips made Jaina shiver, sent a surge of heat straight to her core. She felt wanted and desired, and the doubts and fears plaguing her mind about Tyrande, about the Shadowlands, about anything else, melted away, leaving her free to focus on the woman in her bed touching and kissing her, making her feel something she had not felt for some time, the feeling that Sylvanas had talked about at the Spire, the feeling of life having a deeper meaning.

She pulled Sylvanas close again, pressing against her, kissing her almost desperately. Sylvanas’ fingertips just barely brushed her thighs and then her hips, dancing over her curves, as frigid lips moved to her pulse point, leaving tender kisses along her throat.

“Might be a bit cold,” Sylvanas whispered, her hands very briefly moving between Jaina’s legs to emphasize her point, then moving back to her hips.

“I don’t mind,” Jaina whispered back, her voice trembling with desire, “I just want you to touch me.”

Sylvanas caught her gaze, a wicked smirk on her lips. Jaina drew her into a long kiss, dropping her hands to place them atop Sylvanas’, stroking her knuckles. They separated slowly, Jaina trying to catch her breath.

“Understood,” Sylvanas murmured, smirking again.

Jaina smirked back, still touching Sylvanas’ hands. Those hands moved upwards after a few moments, stroking her quivering belly, then went up to her breasts, cupping them as chilled palms rubbed against stiff nipples. Jaina leaned forward, kissing Sylvanas’ lips again, then her neck, a soft gasp escaping her when Sylvanas’ fingers made their way back down her body, caressing slick inner thighs, then slowly and with care, brushed her open. The banshee’s hand was definitely cold, but she was so hot that the temperature difference felt good. Her face, neck, and upper chest bloomed with arousal, coloring her skin a deep red, heat coursing through her as Sylvanas pushed inside, bringing forth a high-pitched cry of absolute pleasure from her lips.

Long, chilled fingers began moving carefully, tentatively, and Jaina gasped out words of encouragement. Breathing was difficult, and all Jaina could think about was how incredibly good and perfect Sylvanas felt inside her. It felt as though Sylvanas was conducting a symphony of her body, working through ebbs and flows, dips and swells, Jaina’s soft moans carrying throughout the room, as if she were singing in time.

Sylvanas kissed her forehead and tugged her ever so slightly closer, Jaina quivering and breathing heavily, beads of sweat gathering at her brow. She responded to every soft touch, every swirl, every high and low, whispered pleas on her lips as she drew closer. Her heart was beating out a rhythm, beginning to pound in her ears. Sylvanas’ fingers moved with increasing intensity, Jaina’s moans becoming short gasps as the tempo quickened.

Sylvanas was humming softly, occasionally whispering Thalassian into Jaina’s ear, and Jaina began to respond, also in Thalassian, their soft voices combining into a duet of whispered feelings and desires.

Sylvanas’ ears flicked back in surprise as she smiled, asking, “You know Thalassian?”

“A little, but... I mainly learned the dirty stuff...” Jaina blushed intensely at Sylvanas’ sly smirk, biting her lip when the fingers inside her sped up, curling and stroking, making her tremble helplessly.

In her ear, Sylvanas chuckled and husked, “That’s all anyone needs to know...”

Jaina smiled at that, reaching up to caress Sylvanas’ face, their lips meeting in a soft kiss. Jaina rolled her hips against Sylvanas’ hand, the cadence speeding up further, Jaina’s gasps becoming urgent cries, increasing in pitch. She was so close. Sylvanas’ fingers were deep within, while her thumb spun in quick circles over her clit, briefly drawing out lower notes in the form of a few deep moans. Jaina was nearing a crescendo and she saw Sylvanas gazing at her through soft eyes, focused on the lilting sounds spilling from her lips.

Her muscles tightened, her entire body taut, tension flowing through her as she ground her hips harder, faster, against Sylvanas’ hand, frantically chasing the release she needed so desperately. Another moment and she was there, Sylvanas’ fingers working so quickly, so urgently. She cried out, a high-pitched note, her hands in Sylvanas’ hair as wave upon wave of pleasure washed over her, one final lyric playing over and over in her head and then tumbling weakly from her lips...

_Sylvanas... Sylvanas..._ “Sylvanas...”

The song came to a slow finish, Sylvanas’ fingers conducting the last few notes. Jaina was panting, dimly aware that a few tears had leaked from her eyes and had fallen down her cheeks, drying quickly. Sylvanas finally stopped moving her hand, but she kept it where it was.

Sylvanas leaned closer to her, lips hovering near her own. If it was possible, Jaina’s heart beat even faster. She closed her eyes, losing herself in an impossibly tender kiss. She felt pleasantly exhausted as she moved off Sylvanas’ lap to lay down, tucking herself against refreshingly cool skin as the banshee lay down with her, holding her tight and whispering soft, sweet, beautiful things in Thalassian. She relaxed completely, her heartbeat slowing, her eyes still closed, exploring Sylvanas’ sharp curves by touch alone. She reached down to tug off Sylvanas’ trousers, ready to write a work of her own.

A chuckle rumbled in Sylvanas’ chest and Jaina opened her eyes, gazing at the banshee. “I was hoping to make you dinner, but... I’ll do that later, I suppose...”

Jaina smiled, feeling flushed, and she closed her eyes again, a soft moan on her lips. Carefully, she pressed Sylvanas onto her back and climbed on top once more, melting into Sylvanas’ touch as the banshee enveloped her in chilled arms. Her hands trembled as they moved along Sylvanas’ body, fingers lightly brushing soft breasts and a toned stomach, then trailing down curvy hips and muscled thighs as Sylvanas let slip soft, humming moans of pleasure. Jaina swirled her tongue over a breast, mouth closing around a puckered nipple, gasping when she felt chilled fingers dancing between her thighs. She glanced up, finding Sylvanas looking smug while also nearly being lost in her own pleasure and desire.

Stealing a kiss, Jaina moved down further, trailing her lips along Sylvanas’ ribs, down to her stomach. She felt herself flush more at the way Sylvanas trembled under the movement of her lips, and she continued venturing further down, her heart once more beginning to beat rapidly in her chest. Her fingers stroked the soft skin of chilled inner thighs, lips trailing after, leaving kisses that made Sylvanas moan her name. Her hand inched closer to Sylvanas’ center and she was nearly there when she suddenly sucked in a breath, licking her lips and humming softly, thinking. She was nervous, but she knew what she wanted to do and, judging by the way Sylvanas was reacting to everything she was doing with her mouth already, she had a feeling the banshee would appreciate it...

Emboldened, she nudged Sylvanas’ legs apart with gentle kisses on soft skin and one tentative kiss on nether lips, drawing out a whispered moan of a Thalassian curse, and it was Jaina’s turn to be smug at how pleasantly surprised and full of want Sylvanas was.

Jaina kissed and licked damp inner thighs that were now just the slightest bit warm under her roaming mouth. She pressed the softest and most gently teasing of kisses to slick folds as Sylvanas kept whispering in Thalassian, slipping one hand into Jaina’s hair, threading her fingers through the strands. Jaina glanced up, finding Sylvanas’ free hand rubbing one of her breasts, eyes closed, a fang peeking out over a bitten lip. Jaina could not suppress her own moan, whimpering at the sight, as she used the tip of her tongue to work Sylvanas open, diving in when Sylvanas moaned her name. Her tongue explored languidly, her lips closing around Sylvanas’ clit, and she shook when the banshee’s hand tightened in her hair, hips lifting off the mattress and beginning to push gently, rhythmically, against her mouth.

She worked tirelessly, answering every moan and cry with a gentle lick or a long swipe, drawing out soft whispers of praise and certain filthy phrases in Thalassian that made her blush.

Warmth filled her and she squeezed Sylvanas’ trembling thighs, her lips and tongue whipping the banshee into a frenzy. It was not long before she heard her name in a strangled moan, felt Sylvanas’ entire body shiver against her, felt rolling hips finally come to a slow stop, felt the fingers in her hair relax. Jaina crawled up, laying atop Sylvanas, kissing her gently and sweetly.

“I... wasn’t expecting that...” Sylvanas managed, huffing a laugh and closing her eyes.

“But you certainly enjoyed it...” Jaina whispered with a wicked smirk, nibbling her ear teasingly.

Sylvanas shivered again and smiled, running her hands over Jaina’s curves and chuckling, “I absolutely did.”

Jaina watched her recover, humming as she slowly slid off, staying close and softly kissing her neck. Jaina’s heart was pounding again, but it began to slow the longer she lay against Sylvanas. The banshee wrapped her in chilled arms, nuzzling her hair and sighing softly.

Her thoughts turned to the Shadowlands and she inhaled sharply, letting her breath out slowly when Sylvanas held her tighter. Tomorrow was going to be terrifying and she was not looking forward to it. She kissed Sylvanas’ neck again, calming when she felt Sylvanas kiss her temple and stroke her shoulder.

Jaina took one of Sylvanas’ hands in hers, kissing each knuckle in turn. Sylvanas sighed softly into Jaina’s hair, grasping her hand and linking their fingers together, kissing her fingertips. “I’m going to get you something to eat,” Sylvanas murmured. “It’s been some time since you’ve had any food.”

Jaina deflated a bit. It had, in fact, been a while since she had eaten anything and her energy was low, especially after all that had happened. The upside was that she no longer felt as though she might immediately expel anything she would eat and she was looking forward to food. She burrowed into Sylvanas’ shoulder, mumbling sheepishly, “I suppose I could eat a bit...”

“Mhm,” Sylvanas said, combing her hair with gentle fingers.

Jaina moaned softly, closing her eyes and relaxing fully with Sylvanas’ hand in her hair. She nearly drifted off, roused by the soft rumble of laughter in Sylvanas’ chest.

“Take a nap while I’m gone,” Sylvanas whispered, kissing her temple. “Get some of your strength back and I’ll make you some soup with whatever I hunt.”

Jaina smiled and kissed Sylvanas’ shoulder, then trailed her lips along the banshee’s neck, drawing out a long moan. A satisfied chuckle rumbled in her own chest. She stroked a long, sensitive ear, smiling at the gasp on Sylvanas’ lips, and whispered, “You should get going, or I may just keep you in bed for another round...”

Sylvanas turned and kissed her and they looked at each other for a few moments. Jaina was thinking about how they got here, how they ended up like they had, how they had worked together to bring down N’Zoth and free Azeroth from his tyranny forever. She would not have guessed in a million years that she would have not only worked side by side with Sylvanas Windrunner, but that she would find herself thoroughly attached to the woman.

She felt wonderful, she felt happy, she felt peaceful. The worst was over, she thought. The Shadowlands no longer frightened her as much as it had previously. They would venture there and they would see to it that the machine of Death was repaired and that none of the horrors Sylvanas had mentioned would escape.

That left Tyrande.

She could deal with the Night Warrior, they both could. Anduin would most likely prevent Tyrande from launching a full crusade against Sylvanas, especially after all they had learned, after everything that had happened, but it would still be difficult. Tyrande had threatened her and Jaina had fired right back, something she knew she should not have done. But she and Sylvanas had just taken down an Old God and it felt as though they could take on the world together.

“Get some sleep,” Sylvanas said softly, kissing her forehead, “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Jaina nodded and the pair briefly stepped into the small bathroom to clean up, then Jaina watched Sylvanas dress in her armor and sling her bow on her back. Jaina slipped back into her tunic and trousers, then snuggled under the covers. Sylvanas leaned down and gave her a last kiss before departing and Jaina closed her eyes, letting sleep wash over her.

***

Jaina was able to sleep for about an hour before the sound of the cabin door opening roused her. A smile on her lips, she flew from the bed to greet Sylvanas, only to gasp in shock at who was there.

Someone she had not expected.

Someone she could never have guessed.

Someone who should absolutely not be standing before her.

“Derek...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mentioned in the previous chapter that I had written part of this a while ago (couple of months, from the date on the note I snagged it from) and that part was basically the lyrical part of the love scene. I was writing a very fluffy political marriage one-shot that never went anywhere and I had an idea that ended up making that fic a lot darker than I had intended. The part I grabbed was written a fair amount differently that gave it a really dark feel, but I kept the musical essence of it and added a lot more to the scene for this fic, making it hopefully rather sweet. And hopefully rather hot. <3
> 
> I’m not sure when I’ll have another chapter up, aiming for sometime this coming week, but we’ll see. I’m thinking maybe a few more chapters overall to take us to the Shadowlands and back and tie up all the story threads.
> 
> Thanks for clicking, as always!


	14. “We’re Getting a Happy Ending”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I uh, made the mistake of getting back into Diablo with friends and my free time has gone towards grinding the shit out of my new seasonal wizard. >.<

Jaina folded her arms over her chest, nervous and thoroughly confused as to how Derek had found her and, furthermore, why he had sought her out.

“I... is something wrong?” She had many questions, but she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, even though her mind and body were screaming that something was horrifyingly amiss.

Derek was eerily calm as he spoke. “The conditioning that Windrunner put me through, it came with a connection to every Proudmoore. No matter where any of our family go, I’ll always know where they are.”

Jaina swallowed hard and swayed slightly on her feet. She had been wondering about his conditioning, they had even briefly spoken about it. Still, she had hoped there would be nothing to worry about, hoped that it would not surface. “I... I guess I thought—hoped—the conditioning was buried deep enough that it was as if it was gone...”

“Parts of it still linger,” Derek said, “like being able to find our family.”

“Did you need to find me?” she asked, trepidation in her voice. She took an involuntary step back.

“Calia wants to find Windrunner,” he said in response.

“Why?” Jaina felt anger coursing through her. “We talked about this, and I thought Calia was on my side. There’s no reason to find Sylvanas. N’Zoth is gone and so is Azshara. It’s over.”

“It wasn’t over at the meeting afterwards. Calia and Tyrande want vengeance.”

Jaina thought of the meeting, thought of how upset Calia had looked, and a deep chill went through her as she took another step back. Her staff was just out of reach and she hoped to hell she would not need it. “I won’t let you capture her. Sylvanas was under N’Zoth’s control for everything she did. How can you punish her for that?”

“Look what she did to me,” Derek said quietly. “Whether it was her or not, _look at me_. She brought me back against my will, twisted my mind to work against my family. _Our_ family, Jaina!” His voice rose steadily and Jaina trembled at the rage in it. “She’s not a good person, mind-controlled or not. She deserves to die.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Jaina said firmly, standing her ground and taking a step towards him. “People change, Derek. No one is innocent. Countless allies and enemies alike have blood on their hands, including me. More death won’t solve anything, not when we just vanquished one of the biggest threats to our world, and not when there are more threats still out there.”

Derek shook his head as if trying to clear it, reaching up a hand to rub his temple. For a moment, Jaina could see her brother, see the man he normally was, see that he was fighting his conditioning.

“Derek,” she said gently, approaching him with caution, “everything’s going to be all right. We’ll fix this, we’ll figure out a way to remove what was done to you.”

“I don’t want to do this, Jaina,” he whispered brokenly. “She did something. She dug deep, she brought it out. It was buried, and she wanted it—“

“Who?” Jaina asked, grasping his arm. “Who brought it out?”

“I don’t want to do this,” he repeated as he stared into her eyes, “but I have to.”

Jaina blinked backwards and snatched up her staff, swiftly moving out of his range. He moved towards her with a quickness that frightened her and she blinked again. He let out a roar of frustration and rage.

“Derek, stop!” she cried. She blinked again, avoiding a slash of the knife he held.

“This has to end...” he growled.

“Derek, please!”

“_Die_!”

Jaina gasped and reacted quickly, freezing Derek mid-lunge. Her chest heaving and her heart pounding, she steadied herself against a wall, fighting the exertion. She looked upon Derek’s frozen form, at the small knife clutched in his frozen grasp. She carefully worked it from his hand, tucking it safely into her belt.

She leaned against the wall again, trying to steady herself before she even considered unfreezing him. Tears blurred her vision and her hands shook as she tried to get her bearings. She could barely believe what he had told her. He had been sent to kill Sylvanas, his conditioning modified for him to do so. Beyond that, he was able to always know where Jaina and the rest of the family were, a fact that chilled Jaina to the bone.

There had to be something they could do to reverse the conditioning. She was able to freeze and thwart him now, but would she always be able to do so, if his conditioning stayed how it was, or if it became worse? She clenched her hands into fists, angry at the situation, angry that _someone_ would actually dig into his head and modify his conditioning.

Who could it have been? It had been a woman, Derek had revealed that much. But who? Surely Calia and Tyrande would not have done this... Jaina knew they had their grievances against Sylvanas, but it was not in either of their natures to do something so terrible...

Was it?

Tyrande was beyond angry and determined at the Chamber, and Calia’s cruel look towards Sylvanas had made her tense and stressed. Even so, she did not want to believe that either or both of them could be responsible for this.

Still shaking, still panting, she unfurled her fists. The sound of the door opening made her jump and cry out, her heart in her throat.

“Jaina?”

Sylvanas dropped the game she was carrying and flew to Jaina, taking her in her arms. Jaina burrowed into her chest, trembling hands grasping at her leathers.

“What happened here?” Sylvanas looked between Jaina and the still-frozen Derek, Jaina noting that her face was a myriad of emotions. Confusion, worry, anger, and fear all warred on her face and Jaina held her tighter, burying her face in her shoulder.

“Someone—a woman, Derek said—modified his conditioning so that he would come after you. He knew where I was because of his conditioning and he tried to attack me.”

“Whoever did this kept the original intact, then, so that your family would still be in danger,” Sylvanas said.

Jaina pulled back and asked frantically, “Who could have done this?”

“Tyrande prefers to deal with issues herself,” Sylvanas said thoughtfully, “I can’t see this being her work.”

Swallowing hard, Jaina said, “Calia’s the only other one I could think of, but even though I know she’s angry, she and I talked, and I don’t think she’s capable of this.”

Sylvanas looked uncomfortable at the mention of Calia, her eyes darkening and her ears flattening against her head. “Are you certain?” Her voice was quiet and carried a tinge of doubt.

Jaina frowned, growing upset. “I know her,” she insisted, “she wouldn’t do this, Sylvanas.” The banshee only gave her the slightest of nods and Jaina clasped her face in gentle hands, leaning close, warm breath over Sylvanas’ lips as she repeated, “She wouldn’t do this. She isn’t capable of something like this.” Trembling, she whispered, “She’s not her brother.”

Sylvanas’ eyes flashed dangerously and Jaina dropped her hands and nearly shrank back, but she was held in place by the banshee’s arms, tightening more securely around her. She felt Sylvanas nuzzle her hair then rest her chin atop her head. She closed her eyes, settling against Sylvanas, fingers brushing the banshee’s leathers as she inhaled her comforting scent, relaxing in her embrace.

“If you’re certain, then I can only think of one person who could have done this...”

Jaina froze and Sylvanas seemed to hold her closer, tighter, and Jaina shook her head against Sylvanas’ chest, realization dawning on her. “No...”

“He brought her back before,” Sylvanas whispered. “Perhaps he did it again, after I struck him the first time, after you and I left the Spire for Proudmoore Keep.”

“We need to see if the body’s still there,” Jaina said.

“We should take your brother with us, so we can keep an eye on him.”

Jaina nodded her agreement and held up a hand, waving it back and forth, thawing Derek. He sputtered and gasped, coughing as he looked at Jaina, still in Sylvanas’ arms. “Jaina, I—“

“You’re coming with us,” Sylvanas interrupted, her tone carrying a harsh finality to it.

“Are Mother and Tandred safe?” Jaina asked worriedly, sounding frantic.

Derek nodded. “Mother’s on a trip and Tandred’s away. I didn’t harm them.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Jaina asked hopefully, “Can you tell us who did this to you?”

Derek shook his head. “I have no memory of the person’s face, just a distant one of a woman’s voice, a voice I don’t recognize. I just remember her telling me that Tyrande and Calia wanted Windrunner found, but I realize now that was a lie.”

Jaina shivered at the information and opened a portal close to the Spire. It seemed Sylvanas may be right. “Let’s go, then.”

She pulled on a pair of boots, then stepped through without waiting. She walked to the Spire immediately, heading through the door and walking inside, moving to the cellar. She could hear Sylvanas and Derek behind her, and the three descended the stairs. Jaina summoned fire on one palm, looking around as the cellar became illuminated.

“Tides...” she choked out, when she spotted the table. The chair where Azshara’s body had been was empty.

Sylvanas pounded a wall with her fist, letting out a string of curses that echoed in the small room. “This... is a complication we do _not_ need,” she hissed. “We’re supposed to be heading to the Shadowlands tomorrow.”

“Where do you think she went?” Jaina asked, tugging nervously at the fabric of her tunic.

Sylvanas considered. “I’m uncertain if she could find her own way to the Shadowlands, but I imagine she’s aware that the balance between Life and Death has been threatened, seeing as she was working with the Old God who was directly threatening it.” Sylvanas growled and said, “The question is if she values her life enough to want to keep the world safe, or if she doesn’t care and would rather see it all go down.”

“What exactly does it mean,” asked Derek, “that she sent me after you?”

“I’m not sure,” Sylvanas admitted. “She told me she wanted N’Zoth gone and she said she knew I would kill her. Maybe she’s out for revenge against me, maybe she had planned for this all along, or maybe being brought back to life more than once has warped her so much she doesn’t know what she wants anymore.” Her voice grew quiet towards the end and Jaina wondered if Sylvanas was thinking about herself, thinking about how being brought back multiple times might have changed her.

She pushed the thought aside in favor of more pressing matters. “I probably should have asked before,” Jaina murmured, finding herself nervous, “but how do we even get to the Shadowlands?”

“Icecrown,” Sylvanas said, “via the Frozen Throne.”

“How?”

“I... don’t know exactly. My val’kyr only said it would be clear when I arrive. My guess is that it involves the Helm of Domination.”

Jaina froze at that and she could tell Sylvanas saw her fear and apprehension. The mention of the Helm was terrifying. It allowed Bolvar to control the Scourge, what could they possibly do with it that would not set the Scourge free to rampage across Azeroth?

“I know it’s awful to think about,” Sylvanas said gently, “but, I also know that the other way to get in is... far less pleasant.”

Jaina looked down, considering Sylvanas’ words, just as Derek spoke up. “Death, I imagine, is the other option...”

“Yeah,” Jaina growled as Sylvanas smirked at Derek, “I got that.” Jaina shook her head after a few moments of silence, the implications of possibly having to destroy the Helm suddenly at the forefront of her mind. “We can’t do this,” she said, “we just can’t. If we end up having to break it or ruin it in some way, the Scourge will run amok. They won’t be controlled anymore.”

Calmly, but with a bit of bite to her tone, Sylvanas asked, “Which would you rather, Proudmoore? Some undead who can be easily killed, or the complete and total destruction of Azeroth, should the machine of Death fail entirely?”

“Sylvanas...” Jaina muttered irritably. She knew and understood the consequences of both the free Scourge and a broken machine of Death, but she did not particularly want to deal with either, not when Alliance and Horde forces alike had already been considerably thinned by N’Zoth’s minions. She hoped those forces would have a peaceful afterlife, as Helya had promised, pending their success in the Shadowlands, but she worried that repairing Death may require more than they realized. She pushed those thoughts aside, pinching the bridge of her nose, deeply frustrated.

“I think she’s right, Jaina,” said Derek sincerely. “I only know what you’ve both discussed here and at the Chamber, but if the world is truly in danger from another force, surely some undead to deal with would be far preferable to losing Azeroth.”

Jaina looked between the two of them, and after a few moments, let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. We go to Icecrown tomorrow and... likely relieve Bolvar of his duty as Lich King. And then... hopefully... we save the world.”

“With Azshara back in play,” Sylvanas began, “we may need more help.”

Jaina licked her lips nervously, a knot forming in her stomach. “I feel like you’re talking about more help than just Thalyssra and Nathanos...”

Sylvanas nodded and Jaina’s face fell. “Anyone we can convince will likely be necessary.”

“I’ll help,” piped up Derek, “and I know Calia will, as well.”

Sylvanas’ eyes glowed brightly in the dark and she nodded appreciatively. “That’s a start...”

“Maybe I can ask Vereesa and Alleria...” Jaina suggested. “Possibly Go’el...”

Sylvanas put her hands on her hips and flashed Jaina and Derek a broad grin. “Let’s go to Stormwind, Orgrimmar, and the Chamber of Heart tomorrow.”

Jaina gasped and muttered, “You’re _insane_.”

“Probably,” Sylvanas agreed, “but I’m willing to try this. If we speak with Tyrande and Anduin and we’re joined by those who believe in what we’re trying to do... I doubt Tyrande will be able to do much. Anduin’s always been a... reasonable young man. If we can convince him of the danger we’re in, we’ll be in good shape.”

Jaina trembled, still nervously fidgeting with her tunic. “That’s assuming Tyrande doesn’t want my head.” Sylvanas looked at her curiously. She had not shared what had happened with Tyrande when she met Sylvanas at the cabin. She had not wanted to, she had only wanted to be wrapped in the banshee’s embrace, her mind free of uncomfortable thoughts. “She told me I was ‘playing a dangerous game,’” Jaina said quietly, “and I told her she was, too.”

“Nice threat,” Sylvanas said, and Jaina’s eyes snapped to her, finding an approving look on her face.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Jaina said, her tone regretful, “I was just angry.”

“She’s angry, too,” Sylvanas reminded her, “and she’s always going to be, until my head is on a pike. But, somehow, I feel she may be able to set that aside, at least for a little while.”

“You have more faith than I do,” Jaina mumbled.

“Hmm,” Sylvanas mused. “Well, we have tonight to talk things over.” She turned serious and said, “Tomorrow, things will be difficult.”

Derek walked around the cellar to the wall with the shackles. Jaina felt Sylvanas tense beside her, and she brushed the banshee’s wrist with her fingertips, letting her hand fall when she heard a soft sigh of relief.

“Lock me up here tonight.”

Jaina was about to protest, but she realized what Derek wanted was likely for the best. He could stay in the cellar tonight, and tomorrow morning, bright and early, they would free him and head to Boralus to speak with Calia, then begin their Azeroth world tour to gather more allies for the journey to the Shadowlands. There was however, one issue...

“What about Calia?” Jaina asked. “Will she not wonder where you are tonight?”

Derek shook his head. “My conditioning made me tell her I was going sailing. She’s expecting me back tomorrow. Mother should be back tomorrow as well.”

Jaina swallowed hard. Her mother, to her knowledge, did not know anything about what had transpired over the last week or so. She found herself fretting over how to tell her mother that Sylvanas had been in their home and that Derek may put the family in danger. With shaky fingers, she grasped her pendant, trying to force those thoughts out of her mind and focus on Sylvanas’ plan to gain more allies.

“There’s so much to talk about,” she said gruffly. “This is going to be a long conversation with everyone.”

Sylvanas nodded, then said firmly, “You, Derek, Calia, and Thalyssra can convince everyone to meet at the Chamber of Heart. We’ll catch everyone up there. If anyone fusses, they just won’t be coming with us.”

Jaina stared at her, alternately awestruck and confused. “I don’t know how you can be so confident,” she breathed.

Sylvanas grinned and patted the sheathed, still-imbued dagger on her belt. “We killed an Old God, Jaina. We can do _anything_.”

Jaina felt herself getting caught up in Sylvanas’ excitement and her face grew warm. Derek pressed his back against the wall and Sylvanas walked over, gingerly snapping the shackles in place. Jaina turned towards both of them and addressed Derek.

“We’ll be back tomorrow, first thing,” she said, “I promise.”

Derek nodded, his expression somber and full of guilt. Jaina smiled reassuringly as Derek spoke. “I’m so sorry, Jaina. If you hadn’t stopped me, I—“

“We’ll look into reversing it,” Sylvanas cut in. “The Shadowlands is full of all sorts of magic. We may be able to find an answer there.”

“I hope so,” Derek said, his voice tremulous, “I couldn’t bear the thought of this happening again.”

“We’ll find something,” Jaina vowed, walking over and kissing his cheek, “I know we will.”

Sylvanas nodded, reinforcing Jaina’s words and Jaina opened a portal for them back to the cabin. They exchanged farewells with Derek, then stepped through. Jaina nearly tripped over the dead rabbit that Sylvanas had dropped when she had walked in the door earlier.

She pointed a finger at the fireplace and flames shot up, filling the room with plenty of warmth. She turned to Sylvanas, watching as the banshee moved to the small kitchen and deposited the rabbit in the sink, washing her hands. Sylvanas moved to the bedroom, beginning to remove her armor, and Jaina joined her to help. She shivered under Sylvanas’ concerned gaze, closing her eyes when the banshee pressed a long kiss to her forehead.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Sylvanas,” she said patiently, “he didn’t hurt me.”

Once out of her armor, Sylvanas slipped into her trousers and tugged on her tunic. She shook her head lightly, saying, “I don’t mean physically.”

Jaina smoothed Sylvanas’ tunic and absently tugged at the hem, considering her answer. Derek turning on her was terrifying. She had been able to stop him, but, as she had wondered earlier, would she always be able to do so?

“We need to find a way to reverse what was done to him,” she said firmly, dropping her hands.

“That’s not an answer,” Sylvanas whispered gently.

“I know.”

Jaina did not want to talk any more about Derek, did not want to delve into the fact that her own brother scared the hell out of her. They had dealt with enough horrible events and heated conversations and Jaina wanted to set it all aside and eat some rabbit soup and then fall asleep next to Sylvanas, holding her tight.

Still, though, Sylvanas was concerned and cared deeply about her, and the least she could do was give the woman an honest answer. Pursing her lips, she whispered hoarsely, “I’m beyond terrified, Sylvanas. My own brother tried to kill me, and he was also after you. I want—_need_—him to get better.”

“Okay,” Sylvanas murmured, and Jaina looked up, confused. She was met with one of the softest, sweetest smiles she had ever seen. “Okay,” Sylvanas said again, “I just wanted to know how you feel.”

Jaina gave her a small, tired smile in return, slipping her arms around her neck and embracing her, while Sylvanas buried her face in her shoulder. They held each other for a few moments, then Sylvanas pulled back and they shared a brief kiss.

“Get in bed,” Sylvanas said, “I’ll bring you a bowl when the soup’s ready.”

Jaina nodded and tugged off her boots, climbing into bed and pulling the covers over her. She closed her eyes to rest them, but she soon comfortably drifted off, exhaustion winning out.

***

Jaina sat up in bed a short while later spooning soup into her mouth as Sylvanas ran soft, soothing fingers through her hair and planted the most gentle of kisses along her shoulder.

She washed down a couple of bites with a swig of water, then touched Sylvanas’ face, stroking her cheek and looking into gleaming red eyes. It all felt surreal, the past couple of weeks. She—along with Thalyssra—had uncovered a sinister plot and managed to help Sylvanas as well as vanquish N’Zoth. There was still work to be done, but Jaina knew they would take down Azshara when they found her and, once they reached the Shadowlands, they would restore the balance between Life and Death and ultimately save the world. Hopefully, they would also find a way to restore Derek to his normal self.

Somewhere along the way, she had gotten to know Sylvanas, gotten to find out about who she really was. Things had escalated between them rather quickly with how much time they had spent in one another’s company. Jaina would have expected something like this after weeks or perhaps even months, but she and Sylvanas had instead skipped most of the time investment and landed somewhere in the middle of a relationship of sorts.

It seemed crazy, but Jaina was content. She smiled softly and leaned closer to Sylvanas. “How did we get here?” she asked, her voice hushed and full of wonder.

“I’m not sure,” Sylvanas replied with an equally soft smile. It faded as she tucked some of Jaina’s hair behind her ear and said, “I worry what will happen when Azshara is gone and the machine of Death is repaired, balance restored.”

Jaina looked down, closing her eyes as Sylvanas pressed more kisses to her shoulder. “We’ll stay together, no matter what,” she said firmly. “Tyrande can’t vilify us if she sees first-hand that we’re ensuring everyone’s safety.” She swallowed hard and took one of Sylvanas’ hands in hers. “You were so confident earlier, what happened?”

“I’m still confident,” Sylvanas said. “We’re going to succeed. But as I said before, Jaina, this isn’t sustainable. I believe Tyrande may set aside her anger to ensure everyone’s safety, but after that, all bets are off. If Tyrande’s bloodlust is not sated, I fear she’ll hunt both of us until it is.”

“Anduin won’t let her,” Jaina insisted, “he won’t let her carry out a vendetta.”

Sylvanas scoffed. “You think that boy will be able to hold back the fury of a ten-thousand year-old war veteran who currently embodies Elune’s greatest warrior?”

Jaina frowned at Sylvanas’ words. The banshee had nearly done a one-eighty from what she had said earlier, and, as much as it pained her to hear, she realized there was a chance Sylvanas could be right. Even so, she refused to believe it.

She set down her bowl on the table next to her, then stood from the bed, moving to the window. It was raining again, thunder clapping against the night sky, lightning shooting across the clouds. It all matched her mood and she exhaled deeply, folding her arms over her chest. She heard Sylvanas rise from the bed and walk over to her, placing a gentle hand on her back.

“Tyrande’s an _ally_,” Jaina said, her voice thick. “Even with everything that’s happened, even with everything that has yet to happen, even with her and I threatening one another... I can’t think of her as an enemy. Emotions are running high, I just... we can deal with her.” She relaxed when Sylvanas’ arms went around her and she felt cool, comforting lips on the back of her neck. She placed her hands over Sylvanas’. “She won’t come after us,” Jaina said, her voice full of assurance. “We’re getting a happy ending, Sylvanas. After all that’s happened, we deserve it.”

Sylvanas chuckled and squeezed her tight, dropping more kisses along her neck and shoulder. “You’re determined.”

Jaina felt her lips turn up in a smile. “I always am.”

“I _love_ it,” Sylvanas whispered. They stood together for a couple more minutes, Jaina finding comfort in the way the rain hit and then trickled down the window and in the way Sylvanas held her. Sylvanas kissed the shell of her ear and murmured, “Now come on, you need sleep. I’m not taking a tired mage to the Shadowlands...”

Jaina nodded and let Sylvanas lead her back to bed. She climbed in after Sylvanas and settled in to spoon her, chin resting on her shoulder. She pulled the blankets over them and closed her eyes, wishing for a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope it was worth the wait! I’m still working on more chapters, have like two banked atm and working on the next. My enthusiasm for writing is still there, I’ve just been focused on other stuff, so my update schedule might be garbage for a bit. I’m settling in now to write for a while, so hopefully I can get some of these ideas that run through my head most days actually written.
> 
> Happy holidays! Hope everyone had a good whatever-you-celebrate! Happy New Year as well! Two more days and we’re out of this damn year.
> 
> Also this bit from this chapter...
> 
> _“You think that boy will be able to hold back the fury of a ten-thousand year-old war veteran who currently embodies Elune’s greatest warrior?”_
> 
> ...is such a fucking big BfA mood. Blizzard, please.


	15. “What Else Do I Need to Know?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry for the wait, but I _finally_ forced my worthless ass to start writing the Shadowlands parts that have been in my head for weeks now. I’m actually really excited about what I’ve written so far and what I still have planned, I just hope I can do it all justice. My brain is making everything play out like a movie and I’ve been watching it over and over in my head. I just unfortunately suffer from being able to thrust all those scenes properly onto the page, lmao.
> 
> In any case, hope you all enjoy this chapter! I’ll try and have another up soon, just finished chapter 17 and started working on 18. Keeping the chapter count here at 20 for now, but that may change.

Jaina awoke the next morning to the smell of cooked berries and oatmeal, with just a touch of cinnamon, and she rose from the bed to make her way into the kitchen. Sylvanas greeted her with a smile and Jaina kissed her shoulder, taking the offered steaming bowl and a spoon from Sylvanas and digging in.

Sylvanas kissed her hair. “I’ll change while you eat. Once you’re dressed and ready, we can pick up your brother.”

Jaina nodded and they shared a kiss, then Sylvanas disappeared into the bedroom. Jaina peered out the small kitchen window, sighing softly as she ate. It was still raining, and now seemed to be coming down even harder. She shivered, hoping it was not a bad omen. At least there was no thunder or lightning as there had been the previous night. They deserved a break at this point, they had already been through so much and there was still more to go.

She knew that the biggest obstacle in seeking help would be Tyrande and she fretted over how it would go. With Sylvanas in the same room, would Tyrande keep her cool? Would she attack? Would she not only succeed in attacking, but perhaps end up gravely injuring Sylvanas? She had already thrown Sylvanas into a wall, it was not unreasonable to expect she may do it again, or worse.

Jaina bit her trembling lip, setting down the nearly empty bowl of oatmeal and pushing it away. She feared for Sylvanas, even more than she had before. She was invested now, she was in this for the long haul, and she knew Sylvanas knew it. In speaking of Nathanos while they were in Ny’alotha, in asking if their similarities could ever be a problem, she had revealed to Sylvanas that she loved her, just without saying so directly. Sylvanas’ response, along with the sincere, incredibly sweet way she had told Jaina she loved how determined and hopeful and optimistic she was... Jaina thought Sylvanas likely felt the same way.

She smiled, suddenly warmed at the thought.

“What are you smiling about?” Sylvanas asked as she wandered back into the kitchen, her voice soft and kind. She fixed Jaina with a smile as she adjusted her hood.

“Nothing,” Jaina said sweetly, still smiling. Sylvanas raised an eyebrow, but did not say anything further. Jaina drew the banshee into her arms, kissing her deeply. She drew back after a few moments, a happy sigh on her lips as she moved past Sylvanas into the bedroom to dress.

***

They arrived at the Spire a short time later, swiftly heading down to the cellar and freeing Derek from his chains.

“Are you all right?” Jaina asked, checking him over.

“I’m fine,” Derek replied, rubbing his wrists and stretching his limbs. “I’m just relieved I was unable to hurt anyone.”

Sylvanas regarded him kindly. “As we said last night, we’ll find a way to restore you to your normal self.”

“I appreciate that.”

Sylvanas gave him a nod as Jaina cast a portal to Proudmoore Keep, the three stepping through to the hallway near Derek and Calia’s room.

“I’ll go in and speak to her,” Derek said. “I’ll try to explain everything as best I can before I bring her out.”

“We’ll wait here,” Jaina murmured as Derek went in, closing the door behind him.

Jaina tugged at her father’s pendant, her fingers shaking a bit. She glanced at Sylvanas, finding the banshee with a nervous look on her face. She found herself wondering about her mother, recalling that Derek said she should be coming home today. “I’ll be right back,” she said, as Sylvanas nodded.

She went down to the kitchen, sighing in relief when she saw her mother enjoying a cup of coffee at the counter. Katherine looked up and Jaina smiled and walked over to tightly embrace her mother.

“Oof!” Katherine returned the hug, chuckling as she stroked Jaina’s hair. “I appreciate the warm welcome,” she said, though her voice quickly turned serious as she added, “but there’s something troubling we need to discuss.”

Jaina’s mouth dropped open and she gasped at her mother’s words as she pulled back. She gripped the counter tightly, dropping her gaze, but feeling her mother’s eyes on her. She struggled with what to say, not knowing how much her mother knew, or even how she knew anything at all...

With a jolt, she realized Calia must have taken her mother aside and shared at least some of what happened, with regard to Sylvanas. She bit her lip as her mother gestured for her to sit down. She did so, still gripping the countertop.

“Calia told me something deeply unsettling and I almost laughed at first, because surely, it couldn’t possibly be true.”

Jaina winced at the way her mother spoke, disappointment clearly evident in her tone. “Mother, I—“

Katherine held up a hand. Calmly, but with an unmistakable note of anger in her voice, she said, “You let _Sylvanas Windrunner_ into this house.”

“I—“

“What she did to your brother, what she did to those poor night elves, to that _entire_ city... how could you let her into our home? How could you risk putting _our whole family in danger_?”

Her voice kept rising with each sentence and Jaina shrank back, tears in her eyes. Suddenly, Azshara, Tyrande, and the Shadowlands seemed like minor issues. Jaina found herself absolutely terrified of the wrath of her irate mother.

“I don’t know what Calia told you, but—“

“She told me you let a murderer into our _home_,” Katherine all but spat, “what else do I need to know?”

“Context,” Jaina bit back without thinking, her teeth gritted. Her mother’s eyes widened. “I’ll tell you what I told everyone else, and if you do or do not choose to believe it, there isn’t much I can do.” Her voice was a low hiss and she found herself angry and entirely uncaring about how cold she was being. Arcane began to flow through her, as it had when she had been upset with Tyrande, and she saw her mother’s expression become just the slightest bit fearful. “Sylvanas was under N’Zoth’s control, forced to commit acts she would have never even considered, all the while being physically tortured in her childhood home, in the cellar, unable to seek help because N’Zoth would have destroyed everyone. Azshara presented herself as an ally, gave Sylvanas a dagger to kill N’Zoth, and Sylvanas used it, freeing herself from his control.”

Katherine appeared to soften slightly, but her eyes were still wary and Jaina calmed just a little, telling her mother the rest, about going to Ny’alotha together, about trying to help the lost souls, about their forthcoming trip to the Shadowlands. She was shaking and near tears again when her mother stood and wrapped her in a fierce embrace, stroking her hair, and she sucked in deep breaths, standing as well.

“Calia was deeply upset when she spoke to me, but she tried to explain everything,” Katherine admitted softly. “I... may not have listened to all she said. I was so focused on someone like Sylvanas being in our home that I think I didn’t fully comprehend all of the details.”

Jaina drew back, swallowing the sob in her throat. Arcane no longer pulsed through her, but she was still shaking. “Sylvanas isn’t the monster that some perceive her to be,” she whispered. “I’ve spent the last couple weeks learning who she is and I’m relieved I’ve gotten to know her.”

Katherine gave her a warm look, a small smile on her lips. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen fully before. I trust you, sweetheart. I trust your judgment.”

Jaina sat back down, feeling a bit unsteady on her feet. Her mother took her seat again as well, gently wiping tears off her cheeks. “I’m sorry, too,” Jaina said. “Everything’s been unbelievable. If you’d have told me two weeks ago that I’d be working alongside Sylvanas Windrunner, I’d have thought you insane.” She huffed a short laugh as her mother softened even further. “But I worked with Thalyssra and we found out what was happening, and we were able to assist Sylvanas.” Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she said quietly, “If I believed for a second that our family was in danger from Sylvanas, I never would have brought her here.”

“I understand,” Katherine murmured, “I was just so consumed with worry for our family that I... couldn’t see the truth.”

Jaina nodded her understanding, finally calming down a bit more. She was vaguely aware that her heart had been pounding, and that it had only now just about slowed to its normal rate. She looked down at the countertop, her mind still racing, even as her body relaxed.

“A-are we... okay?” Jaina asked tentatively, one trembling hand grasping her pendant.

Katherine reached for the hand holding the pendant, taking it in both of hers. “We’re wonderful, sweetheart.”

Jaina’s thoughts finally settled down and she stood, pulling her mother into another hug. “When this is all over,” she whispered, “I’d like you to meet her.”

Katherine chuckled softly against her hair. “I think I’d like that.”

Jaina closed her eyes, grateful that she and her mother had been able to talk things out, to realize that they both had their family’s best interests at heart. She decided to keep what had happened with Derek to herself. All she would succeed in doing was terrifying her mother and with Derek joining them in the Shadowlands, there was no reason to worry her. He would be under the watchful eye of at least several people at all times.

Jaina pulled back, kissing her mother’s cheeks and smiling when her mother kissed her forehead. “I have to get going,” she said sadly, “there’s still a lot of work to do.”

Katherine nodded, tucking a lock of hair behind Jaina’s ear. “Be safe and come home soon.”

“I will.”

They shared soft smiles, then Jaina made her way out of the kitchen and back up the stairs towards Derek and Calia’s room. She stood next to Sylvanas, reaching for her hand. Sylvanas grasped it and Jaina squeezed gently, finding comfort and reassurance in holding her hand.

She could hear Calia and Derek speaking in his room, their voices raised. Derek was explaining what had taken place in the cabin and then at the Spire. Calia was understandably upset and concerned, while Derek attempted to reassure her that what had been done to him could ultimately be fixed. Calia raised concerns about Sylvanas, concerns that Jaina had apparently not quelled, at least not completely, when they had spoken before.

Their voices quieted after a bit, Jaina nervously squeezing Sylvanas’ hand again, then letting it go. Calia finally emerged from the room with Derek next to her, stiffening when she saw Sylvanas.

“I don’t know if I trust you, Old God influence or not,” Calia said immediately, fixing Sylvanas with a stern, cautious look, “but I care deeply for Derek and Jaina, and if they vouch for you, then I will reluctantly accept their judgment.”

Sylvanas merely nodded and Jaina wondered if she might say anything. After a moment, it was clear that Sylvanas would not speak, and Jaina realized that was likely for the best. There was essentially nothing that Sylvanas could say to ease Calia’s mind, and it seemed Sylvanas recognized that.

“Where to, next?” Jaina asked.

Sylvanas hummed thoughtfully. “Let’s pick up Thalyssra and Nathanos. They’re probably in Meredil, since we didn’t see Nathanos at the Spire.”

Jaina nodded and cast a portal to Suramar, putting them in Meredil. They walked inside the small cave of Shal’Aran, immediately greeted by Thalyssra and Nathanos. Thalyssra swept Jaina into a hug and Jaina watched out of the corner of her eye as Sylvanas drew Nathanos into her arms, hugging him tightly. Jaina smiled and closed her eyes, her chin resting on Thalyssra’s shoulder.

“Sylvanas has a plan,” Jaina whispered.

“What sort of plan?” Thalyssra asked as she pulled back.

Jaina looked at Sylvanas, who had stepped back from Nathanos. Sylvanas heaved a sigh and the group settled in on plush pillows as she began to explain everything.

***

“Wow,” Thalyssra breathed, “I would not have guessed that N’Zoth would have brought back Azshara, but it makes sense. With him now gone, he at least has Azshara to attempt to continue his legacy, if she so chooses.”

“I fear she’s on her way to Icecrown,” Sylvanas said. “She has to know about the Shadowlands and the machine of Death. I only hope she doesn’t get there before we do.”

“Bolvar will be in danger, if she does,” said Jaina, “and we’ll all be in greater danger if she does something to the Helm before we arrive.” She turned to Sylvanas and they shared nervous looks. “I... don’t think we’ll have time to gather more allies.”

Sylvanas muttered something under her breath in Thalassian that Jaina could not make out, but her tone and the look on her face told Jaina it was likely a curse. “Why don’t we do this... I’ll journey to Icecrown, you all gather whoever else you can and meet me there.”

Jaina shook her head. “That’s way too dangerous. You can’t go alone.”

A slow smirk twisted Sylvanas’ lips. “Come with me, then I won’t be alone.”

Jaina looked uncertain, turning to Thalyssra. “I...”

“It’s a good plan,” said Thalyssra. “Nathanos, Derek, Calia, and I can make the rounds, see who we can get. You two go and we’ll meet you there as soon as possible.”

“You two will be fine,” said Calia, patting Jaina’s arm. “Go to Icecrown, don’t worry about us. When we meet up, we’ll have an army with us.” She sounded confident and Jaina smiled when she did.

Jaina cast a portal to Icecrown Citadel, her hands shaking faintly. She had not been to Icecrown in some time, and she was filled with trepidation at returning. Calia leaned close, whispering encouragement in her ear, and she nodded, feeling a bit better. Bolvar was not Arthas, but she knew that seeing him in the armor, in the Helm of Domination, would affect her, make her think of Arthas, and she was deeply nervous.

“Stay safe,” Derek said, pulling Jaina into a brief hug.

Nathanos just grunted and nodded at Jaina and she returned the nod, then stepped through her portal. She emerged outside the steps of Icecrown Citadel and she gasped at the cold, pulling up her hood and shivering. Sylvanas emerged next to her, taking the steps two at time, as Jaina took a deep breath and tried to catch up.

Sylvanas stood at the entrance as Jaina, panting softly, finally reached her. “Ready for this?” Jaina shook her head as Sylvanas rubbed her back. “We’ll be all right,” she whispered. “We killed an Old God, remember?”

Jaina nodded mutely, staring at the looming Citadel, her shoulders shaking. She was barely aware when Sylvanas wrapped both arms around her, pulling her close and kissing her forehead. She closed her eyes, reaching up a trembling hand to grasp at Sylvanas’ leathers as she tugged her into a kiss. Sylvanas pulled back after a few more moments and headed inside. Jaina stayed put for another moment, steeling herself, then followed Sylvanas inside.

They activated a pad in the entrance hall, teleporting to the Upper Spire. They began making their way across a bridge to the teleportation pad for the Frozen Throne when a voice stopped them both cold.

“Greetings.”

They looked at each other, both recognizing the voice, then turned towards the direction from which it had come.

“Azshara.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it was kinda shortish! Next one is currently 3500, but will probably go up when I go through it for posting and chapter 17 is currently 5800, so I’ve got some meaty chapters coming up.
> 
> I’ll be back as soon as I can with another chapter. Hope everyone had a great New Year’s!


	16. “Dalah’surfal”

Azshara smiled as she slithered up to them. Her clothes were stained with blood and ripped in the front. Jaina felt Sylvanas bristle beside her, heard a very faint sound of terror in her throat. Azshara appeared to instill more fear in her than the Old God had and she wondered about the torture Sylvanas had suffered at the hands of Azshara. The banshee had not given her every detail, mostly bits and pieces, and Jaina could see why.

“You know, it was good that you killed me, because I got to see the place that you thought about so much.”

There was a whimper in Sylvanas’ throat and Jaina turned to her, baffled at Azshara’s words. Judging by the look on her face, Sylvanas was just as confused as she.

“You never figured it out? N’Zoth was powerful enough to control you, but in your weakened state, I could see inside your mind. He couldn’t, though, don’t worry. He was more brawn than brain, with how his control worked, but I knew everything you had planned. I knew about Helya, about the souls, about the Shadowlands, about the Jailer, about the machine of Death.” She huffed a laugh and whispered, her voice viciously teasing, “About Nathanos...”

She walked closer to them, lifting a hand to caress Sylvanas’ face. Jaina looked between the two of them, fearing for Sylvanas’ life, but afraid to intervene. Sylvanas was as solid as stone next to her, clearly refusing to give Azshara even an inch of satisfaction.

“It was a boon that you killed me,” she said again, “even better that N’Zoth did not raise me right away. I was able to get a glimpse inside the Shadowlands, to see exactly what was going on. It’s... a rather interesting place.”

Jaina felt a chill run through her. She had not given much thought to what the Shadowlands would be like, or the people she may see there. Would she see Arthas again? If she did, how would she react to seeing him? Would he be the same monster he was when he died? Or could being in the Shadowlands have changed him?

Her lower lip began to quiver and she bit it, now even more afraid than she had been. She sucked in a shuddering breath, suddenly aware that both Sylvanas and Azshara had turned to her. She stood her ground, meeting Azshara’s gaze, trying to be as steadfast as she could.

“Why did you send my brother after Sylvanas?” Jaina demanded.

Azshara tilted her head, her voice lilting, but laced with condescension, “I merely wanted to slow you down. You were never in any danger, I think you know that. The boy is not remotely capable of killing either of you.”

“Why did you need to slow us down? What is it you’re trying to do?”

“Mm, I need to get back to the Shadowlands, but I need to do so _without_... being killed.” She wrinkled her nose at Sylvanas. “Because of Lady Windrunner’s very active thoughts, I knew that I could get back somehow through the Frozen Throne.”

Jaina did not understand what Azshara was saying. None of it made sense. She clenched a fist, wanting to strangle Azshara. The naga queen had betrayed her people long ago, had allied with an Old God, had tortured Sylvanas, had sent Derek on a rampage, and had died multiple times and been brought back by the Old God with whom she had been working. According to what Sylvanas had said, Azshara had wanted N’Zoth gone as much as everyone else did. Still, though, she had accepted his resurrection twice and still seemed to be doing whatever she felt like doing.

Jaina would play along, or at least try to, and glean as much information from Azshara as possible. She realized Sylvanas had moved closer, tucking herself into her side, gentle fingers on the small of her back, fingers that she could feel trembling just a bit. She chewed on her lip, then raised her chin defiantly, addressing Azshara.

“What did you see?” she asked. “You’re here and you may as well be taunting us with what you know, so tell us.”

Azshara placed one hand on Jaina’s shoulder and one on Sylvanas’ and leaned in. “Before I do, I want you to know I’m still on your side.”

Jaina glanced at Sylvanas, finding her lips forming a thin line, her eyes dark and narrowed. “Is that so?” Sylvanas asked cooly.

“It is. I’ve even spoken with your friend, the Jailer.” Chuckling, she added, “Quite the character, he is...”

“You were working with N’Zoth,” Jaina found herself saying, as Azshara turned to face her, “you tortured Sylvanas, and you sent my brother to kill us, even if you claim he would have been unable to do so. Why would you be on our side?”

Azshara licked her lips and turned back to Sylvanas with a cruel smirk. “You trade in Blightcaller for a newer, _living_ model? Poor sap...”

Jaina saw Sylvanas’ eyes darken further, saw her reach for the dagger... then stop herself. Wryly, she intoned, “Get to the point, unless you’d like your clothes to be an even _deeper_ shade of red...”

“Oh, Lady Windrunner,” Azshara mused, chuckling, “I do _so_ enjoy when we get to engage in witty repartee.”

“As do I,” Sylvanas said, still smirking, “but right now I’d like to know more of what you know.”

Jaina looked between the two women, finding herself deeply disturbed at the display, Sylvanas sharing a smirk with the woman who had spent months torturing her, who had sent Jaina’s brother to kill them. Sylvanas had a plan, Jaina decided. This was just part of it, pretending as though she might be willing to accept a partnership.

“Death is... very weak,” Azshara said, her tone surprisingly somber. “The Jailer and his... lieutenants, I suppose... are having a difficult time keeping the stronger prisoners of the Shadowlands at bay. I managed to fight and weaken those who tried to escape, but that’s certainly not a permanent solution.”

Sylvanas’ ears twitched and Jaina noticed. She wondered what Sylvanas was thinking... was it possible that Azshara could stay there and use her considerable strength to keep the more powerful, deadly foes in line?

“In any case, Lady Windrunner, we need to get back to the Shadowlands, and I’m personally not keen on dying again, much as you may enjoy plunging that dagger into me a _second_ time.” She fixed Sylvanas with a humorless smile as Sylvanas tilted her head and smirked again.

“Wait,” Jaina began, fixing Azshara with a serious look. Words flew about in her head and she wondered if she should even attempt what she was thinking. She had no idea if she might ruin whatever Sylvanas had planned to deal with Azshara. Swallowing her worry, she asked, “If you were able to modify my brother’s conditioning, then surely you can remove it, right?”

Azshara narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. “I can, yes.”

“You can,” Jaina pressed, “but will you?”

“Are you trying to strike some sort of deal?” Azshara asked, a grin slowly stretching her lips.

Jaina nearly recoiled at the sight, but stood her ground. “We need assurance that you won’t betray us, that you won’t unleash some sort of monster within him to hurt us or force us to attack him.”

Azshara shifted slightly, folding her arms across her chest. As she did so, Jaina noticed a diamond-shaped pendant peeking out from under her ripped robes, noting that it was glowing faintly. She wondered what it was, startled when she realized Azshara had caught her staring and lifted the pendant so she could get a better look at it.

“I see you’ve noticed this,” she said with a chuckle.

“What is it?”

“It’s what I used to modify your brother’s conditioning.”

Jaina’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “How does it work?”

“Mm...” Azshara hummed, “I don’t know if I should reveal that before I’m certain that we all trust one another.”

Jaina saw Sylvanas about to say something, but she spoke up before the banshee could. “How are we supposed to trust you after what you’ve done?”

Azshara scoffed. “And how should I trust either of you after your Dark Lady killed me?”

“You got better.” Jaina’s lips twisted into a sneer and she heard a soft chuckle from Sylvanas at what she had said.

Azshara chuckled as well, the sound grating. “I did, indeed. But that was the last time.”

“No more Old God. No more free chances,” Sylvanas said, a hint of a smirk on her lips.

“No,” Azshara agreed, “unlike you and your val’kyr.”

“True,” Sylvanas said, and Jaina saw her smirk fade and her shoulders tense.

“We’re alike, you and me,” Azshara purred, “even if you would never admit it.”

“We’re nothing alike,” Sylvanas said, but her tone was not unkind.

Jaina looked between the two of them as Azshara grinned and shook her head. Pursing her lips, feeling arcane flood her veins, Jaina addressed Azshara coldly, “She is _nothing_ like you.”

Azshara reached up to caress Jaina’s face, nails digging into her skin just a little. “You really are the new and improved Blightcaller, aren’t you?” She dropped her hand as Jaina nearly squirmed away. “Same feelings, but in a _much_ more attractive package...”

The three women did not speak for a few moments, then Azshara reached up to her own pendant, yanking it from her neck and reaching for Jaina’s hand. Jaina watched as Azshara set the still faintly glowing pendant in the center of her palm, closing her fingers over it.

“Call it a gesture of good faith,” Azshara whispered. “You can hold onto it and once we’re in the Shadowlands and I’ve determined you two do not intend to murder me, I’ll tell you how it works.”

Jaina slipped the pendant into a pouch on her belt. She was reluctant to agree to the terms, but she figured, for now, she could go along with them. Even if she did not, she imagined she and Thalyssra could study its magic and determine for themselves how to actually remove Derek’s conditioning. That would, in fact, likely be preferable to teaming up with Azshara, given the treachery she had committed throughout her life.

Filing that idea away, Jaina let her gaze travel upwards and gave Azshara what she hoped was a convincing look. “Thank you,” she said.

“I’ll never tell you if you kill me, however,” Azshara cautioned, “so don’t get any ideas, hm?” She patted Jaina’s cheek.

Jaina, recoiling a little, forced herself to nod as Azshara turned to look at the teleportation pad down the bridge. Jaina caught Sylvanas’ eye, quirking an eyebrow at her. Subtly, she gave her a look that she hoped conveyed what she felt, what she wanted, while Azshara was still looking away. She found Sylvanas’ expression unreadable and she bit her lip, hoping they were on the same wavelength.

“Fair enough,” said Sylvanas, addressing Azshara. “Off we go, then.” She gestured for the naga queen to go on ahead.

“Mm, if you don’t mind, I’d rather walk behind you.” She leaned in and added, “Trust issues, you know...”

“Of course,” Sylvanas purred with a nod, taking the lead.

Jaina noted that Azshara’s gaze seemed to be fixed on the sheathed dagger on Sylvanas’ hip. She shivered a bit, uncertainty creeping into her body. Were they actually planning on taking Azshara to the Shadowlands with them?

The thought made her incredibly uneasy and she tried to hide the shaky breath on her lips. Sylvanas had a plan, though, Jaina knew. She _had_ to have a plan, and she _had_ to have understood Jaina’s look just a minute before. There would be no way that Sylvanas would let this woman—

Jaina’s thoughts were interrupted when time seemed to slow down as Sylvanas spun on her heel, drawing the dagger and thrusting it deep into Azshara’s chest. She watched over Azshara’s shoulder as Sylvanas’ lips shook and slowly stretched into a humorless smile. Jaina stepped closer, moving so that she could see Azshara’s face. The naga queen was coughing up blood, spitting it on Sylvanas’ armor.

She was laughing.

It was a cruel, pathetic sound with absolutely no humor in it. Jaina chewed the inside of her cheek, trying to figure out what to say, if anything. She looked to Sylvanas, finding her eyes dark and cold, the smirk still on her face.

“Did you know I would kill you this time?” Sylvanas hissed.

“No,” Azshara managed, still laughing as she spat blood everywhere, “but you’ve sealed your fate and the fate of that _pathetic_ weakling.” Jaina grimaced at how Azshara spoke of her brother. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

Sylvanas leaned close to Azshara, lips almost brushing her ear, as she whispered, “See you in the Shadowlands.” She ripped out the dagger and let Azshara’s body fall off the bridge into the abyss below.

As she fell, Azshara whispered with a bloody smile, “Yes, you will...”

Jaina reached for Sylvanas’ free hand, jumping back with a start when Sylvanas gasped and backed away. Bewildered and a bit hurt, Jaina stepped back, her eyes watery. Almost immediately, Sylvanas softened, tucking the dagger away and sweeping Jaina into her arms, burying her face in Jaina’s neck.

Tears slipping down her cheeks, Jaina squeezed her eyes shut and held fast to Sylvanas, as though her life depended on it. She held the banshee tighter when she heard a single, quiet sob escape her. The bravado Sylvanas had mustered when taunting Azshara was seemingly gone. “It’s okay,” she whispered, and she heard another sob, “it’s okay.”

Sylvanas held her close, and Jaina kept whispering soft, sweet things to her, as Sylvanas began to recover. The banshee sniffled and mumbled something in Thalassian that Jaina could not quite catch.

“Hm?” she asked. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

Sylvanas pulled back, tucking some of Jaina’s hair behind her ear. “‘Dalah'surfal,’” she said, her voice soft, “that’s what I called you.”

Jaina felt her face flush as she smiled gently in recognition. It was part of the limited Thalassian she knew. “‘My love,’” she whispered.

Sylvanas nodded and kissed her forehead, then brushed her lips with a tender kiss, as Jaina melted in her arms. Jaina drew back to press her forehead against Sylvanas’. She was grateful for the quiet moment before they would see Bolvar, and even more grateful that they had made it in time and stopped Azshara once again. They would see her in the Shadowlands, but she imagined they could deal with her there. They had killed an Old God, after all, what threat was a naga queen?

It frightened her, however, that Azshara had said she had met with the Jailer. She hoped that Azshara had not, somehow, forged an alliance that may supersede Sylvanas’ agreement with him.

She worried, too, how the talks were going for gaining more allies. She wished she could have been there to speak with Vereesa, Alleria, Go’el, and Anduin, but she believed they would agree to help regardless. Wrathion, Magni, and Kalec were also likely sure bets, with Malfurion probably supporting Tyrande, but maybe, possibly, able to convince her to assist.

Jaina pulled back when she heard the sounds of teleportation behind her. Thalyssra stepped through first, followed by Nathanos, Calia, and Derek. No one else followed and Jaina’s heart sank.

Then, Thalyssra smiled.

Through the portal, came Go’el, Vereesa, Alleria, Magni, Wrathion, Kalec, Anduin, Genn, Lor’themar, Shaw, and Baine. Jaina’s face lit up and she ran to Vereesa, grinning when the elf swept her into her arms, embracing her warmly.

“We’re okay, right?” Jaina whispered into the crook of Vereesa’s neck, suddenly nervous.

Vereesa chuckled against her hair. “Jaina, we’ve always been okay.”

“Just checking,” Jaina said, a smile on her lips.

They separated and Jaina felt Sylvanas next to her. She looked at the three Windrunners, trying to read the expressions of each. Sylvanas looked relieved and grateful, her eyes just slightly watery. Vereesa looked happy to be near her sister again, and her lower lip shook as tears rolled down her cheeks. Alleria looked cautious of Sylvanas and protective of Vereesa, but at an exchange of gentle smiles between her younger sisters, seemed to soften just a bit.

Jaina stepped away, briefly grazing Sylvanas’ back with her fingertips, and moved to Go’el and Anduin as Vereesa, somewhat tentatively, pulled her sister into a hug. Jaina watched Sylvanas’ shoulders tense briefly, then relax as she all but melted into Vereesa’s embrace. Alleria looked on, still appearing cautious, but Jaina saw just a hint of relief in her eyes.

Jaina finally looked up at Go’el, into kind eyes, as he gave her a faint smile. She mouthed a thank you and his smile widened. She turned to Anduin, giving him a nod, then broke into a smile when he embraced her.

“I take it Tyrande and Malfurion won’t be joining us?” Jaina asked when she pulled back.

Anduin shook his head. “Thalyssra’s impassioned speech, along with Calia and your brother trying to make them see reason, seemed to not affect them at all. Nathanos said a few words, too, but they weren’t interested.” He sighed and continued, “Malfurion seemed as though he might wish to help, but I understand him wanting to stand by his wife.”

Jaina nodded, sighing. She wished, again, that Tyrande could separate Sylvanas and N’Zoth, but it seemed as though her anger would not allow her to do so. She turned to Kalec, looking up at him and smiling gently.

“Are we still on for that coffee, when this is all over?” he asked, giving her shoulder a playful nudge.

She nudged him back, grinning. “Absolutely.”

“Good,” he said, returning the grin.

Jaina looked back to Go’el, reaching for his hands. He grasped hers and held them for a few moments, then let go as they both folded their arms behind their backs.

“I’m so grateful that you’re here,” she whispered.

“I am too, my friend,” he said, and she warmed at his words. “I’m relieved that Sylvanas did not commit those acts on her own, and I feel sorry for her for what she was forced to endure.”

Jaina nodded. “She went through so much, for so long, and we had no idea.” She took a shaky breath and looked down, saying, “I still feel guilty that we didn’t know.”

“At least she has allies now,” Go’el said gently. “All we can do is push forward.”

“Right,” Jaina agreed, “we can make a difference.”

Sylvanas cleared her throat and everyone turned to look at her, now standing at the end of the bridge. “I’m extraordinarily humbled and grateful that so many of you have decided to join us today. In a couple of minutes, we’ll make our way to the Frozen Throne to speak with Bolvar, and then make our way to the Shadowlands.

“It’s going to be a difficult transition. I’m unsure of the details of how it affects the living, but my own experience there was... less than pleasant. I ask that you prepare yourselves and be ready to feel unlike how you normally feel.

“Once we’re there, we’ll speak to the Jailer to check in and offer our assistance. He’ll tell us what is required of us and we’ll be able to see how repairs are progressing on the machine of Death. A great deal of anima has already been sent from N’Zoth and his minions, so the situation should have hopefully improved, but there’s still work to be done.

“As a final note, when the Lord Admiral and I arrived here, Azshara was waiting for us. We—“

“Way to bury the lede, Dark Lady,” Lor’themar muttered with a shake of his head. Other voices joined in, murmuring their agreement.

Sylvanas just smiled. “Apologies, Lor’themar,” she said, “I had a lot to cover, but I figured I’d end with the most troubling.”

Lor’themar huffed a laugh, palming his face. “I shouldn’t have expected any different,” he said with a fanged grin.

“No, you shouldn’t have,” Sylvanas returned, grinning back.

Jaina looked between the two of them, grateful for the bit of levity.

“In any case,” Sylvanas continued, “as you can see, she is not here, and that is because I could not allow her to continue to live. Unlike before, she no longer has N’Zoth to bring her back. We’ll see her in the Shadowlands and we should be prepared for a fight.” She paused and the group murmured amongst themselves for a few moments. “Now, if we’re all ready, we can head up to the Frozen Throne.”

There were scattered words of agreement, and the group began making their way towards the teleportation pad when there was the unmistakable sound of someone emerging through a portal behind them.

Jaina spun around to find Malfurion stepping through, a serious look on his face. He took a step to the side and through the portal came Tyrande, her expression irritated and grim. Her skin almost appeared to be glowing and her eyes were completely black. Jaina drew in a quick breath, ready for a battle.

Tyrande crossed her arms over her chest, rocking back on her heel. Everyone turned to look at her, their expressions bewildered. Tyrande’s own expression changed and, with a smirk that chilled Jaina to the bone, she asked, “Are we doing this, or what?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite the exit for Azshara (for now)... and quite the entrance for Tyrande.
> 
> I’ve got a few chapters to edit and a decent chunk of scenes left to write still, but I think I got past some of the most difficult parts that I couldn’t get out of my head and into the story for a few weeks.
> 
> I also woke up a few days ago to the tail end of a dream about this fic and I grabbed my phone and wrote out a rough version of the story’s ending from my dream.
> 
> I’ve been having an absolute blast writing the Shadowlands stuff, which was the bulk of what I initially had trouble writing. Once I put my head down and got going, it started flowing freely, and I’ve been loving it. I will say, though, that if there ends up being anything in those sections that conflicts with known or upcoming lore (I’ve done some research, but I’m honestly more about doing my own thing with this), then fuck it. I just want to have fun and deliver an enjoyable story, and I do hope I’m doing an okay job with it.
> 
> Also yes, the rating changed. I probably should have updated it a few chapters ago, but better late than never, I suppose. It’s definitely because of chapter 13 and not, ahem, because there’s more in that vein on the way...
> 
> I’m going to keep trying to stick to posting chapters every few days or so, while I try to get everything wrapped up and dealt with in a satisfying way.
> 
> Thanks for clicking, as always.


	17. “Let’s Go Save the World”

Jaina stared, slack-jawed, at the Night Warrior. She could not believe her eyes or ears. Not only had Tyrande decided to join everyone in Icecrown, but she seemed incredibly smug and almost... excited... at the prospect of going to the Shadowlands.

“It’s not polite to stare,” Tyrande purred, uncrossing her arms and beginning to walk towards and then past everyone. She gave Sylvanas and Jaina particularly hard bumps with her shoulder as she headed for the teleportation pad, disappearing after she stood on it.

Jaina watched, still in shock, then turned to Malfurion, who walked over to her and rested a hand on her shoulder. They exchanged wordless looks, her expression one of profound confusion, his one of deep understanding. He patted her shoulder gently, then joined his wife, disappearing on the pad.

Lor’themar cleared his throat and laid a hand on Sylvanas’ shoulder. “Looks like we have _another_ troubling issue to deal with...”

He and most of the others began to walk towards the pad, leaving Jaina, Sylvanas, Thalyssra, and Nathanos behind.

“I don’t even know where to start,” Jaina breathed, clutching her pendant against her pounding heart.

“I don’t, either,” Thalyssra said. “I wasn’t expecting her to come.”

“I told you she would set aside her loathing for me with the fate of the world at stake,” Sylvanas said wryly. Jaina frowned at her and Sylvanas gave her a look. “You said yourself she’s an ally, it seems she’s proving you right.”

Jaina nodded and a thought came to her, something she had barely registered as Sylvanas was making her speech, but now it was all she could think about. “What did you mean when you said that the transition may be difficult and that we might not feel like ourselves?”

Sylvanas’ mouth dropped open and closed quickly, and Jaina watched the banshee visibly swallow. Thalyssra and Nathanos also seemed interested in the answer, the two of them fixing Sylvanas with inquiring looks.

“I don’t know all the details,” she said, and Jaina shivered at how uncomfortable she looked, “but the living will essentially be dead in the realm, whether they venture there specifically as we’re going to, or if they pass on.”

“‘Dead’?” Jaina repeated, her voice tremulous.

“Yes.”

“That’s... I...”

Sylvanas gently cut her off, saying, “When we return, you’ll be how you were. Inside you’ll be... different...”

“Can we be killed inside?” Thalyssra asked. “That is to say, could we be permanently killed there, instead of just feeling like we have been?” Jaina looked towards her and Thalyssra moved closer, grasping her arm.

“Difficult to say, but considering the most powerful enemies are being kept there, imprisoned, rather than killed, I’m leaning towards no,” said Sylvanas. “However, we may be different... Keep your guard up.”

Jaina gulped, and she felt Thalyssra’s grip on her arm tighten. “We’ll be okay,” she managed, “we’ll be okay.”

Nathanos nodded his agreement and Jaina saw confidence written all over his face. “I’m not concerned. We’ll complete our task and return home.”

To no one in particular, Jaina murmured, “What happens after? We save the world... and then what?”

The group exchanged looks, their expressions pensive, but uneasy. Jaina could tell that Tyrande was on all of their minds.

“I don’t know,” said Thalyssra, “but we’ll find out soon.”

“Right...” Jaina whispered, as Thalyssra squeezed her arm reassuringly. She was suddenly aware that in the past couple of weeks, she had not gotten to see Thalyssra as much as she would have liked, and only very briefly had they spent any time together as friends. Mostly, their time had been spent working. She turned to Thalyssra then, a small smile on her face. Thalyssra returned it and Jaina drew her into a hug, sighing against her shoulder. As she had promised Vereesa, she would make time for the people she loved and cared about.

“We should get going,” Nathanos grumbled, “who knows what that woman is doing up there...”

Jaina pulled back and turned to Nathanos. “Tyrande won’t harm Bolvar,” she said confidently, “that would only make things worse and I don’t believe she would be that foolish.”

“Either way, we have work to do, so we best get to it.” He walked down the bridge to the pad, with Thalyssra jogging to catch up.

Sylvanas reached for Jaina’s hand, and Jaina turned to her, a pleasant shiver running down her spine when Sylvanas brought her hand up to kiss her knuckles. Jaina watched Sylvanas’ gaze turn to Nathanos and Thalyssra just as the pad teleported them above. She heard a soft sound escape the banshee’s lips and she shivered again when she felt Sylvanas’ hand tremble.

“Are you all right?” Jaina asked gently, placing her other hand over Sylvanas’.

“Thinking about Nathanos,” Sylvanas said, her expression somber. “I could have handled things better than I did. He’s always been dear to me, I... I hope he knows that he still is.”

Jaina considered responding, but she realized that anything she said would sound trite and that she had no business speaking on the friendship and past relationship between the two. Instead, she kissed Sylvanas’ knuckles and looked into cold, dim red eyes, just a hint of a smile on her lips, hoping to give Sylvanas a kind look of reassurance. Sylvanas’ eyes seemed to warm slightly under her gaze and Jaina pressed the softest of kisses to her forehead before pulling her hands away and heading down the bridge. After a few moments, Sylvanas joined her, reaching her in an instant, and pressed a hand to her back.

They reached the pad and glanced at one another, sharing nervous looks. Jaina felt Sylvanas’ fingers rub her back soothingly, as she was wont to do, and she relaxed into the touch.

“I don’t know what I’ll do if I see Arthas in the Shadowlands,” Jaina said suddenly, the words pouring out of her before she could stop them. She felt Sylvanas’ hand stop moving, felt sharp nails dig briefly into her back, before the hand fell away.

“I don’t, either,” Sylvanas whispered, after a long moment had passed. “I saw him for only a few seconds years ago, when I leapt off the Frozen Throne and ended up in the Shadowlands. I’m not certain how I’ll react to seeing him for an extended period of time, if that happens.”

“I’m sorry,” Jaina said quietly, looking down. She felt Sylvanas’ cool hand slip into hers, thumb caressing her knuckles.

“Sorry for what?” Sylvanas asked gently.

Jaina could feel Sylvanas looking at her. She knew that if she looked up that she would find the banshee with a sweet, caring expression and concern evident all over her face. She trembled, her face burning with shame. She knew she was being selfish about seeing Arthas. He had been her first love, he had shaped her into a more cautious person, a person who tended to keep her feelings a bit more guarded than she usually would. Kalec had allowed her to open up a bit and Sylvanas had drawn that out even further, but she would always keep what happened with Arthas in the back of her mind, a vicious reminder that things may not always work out.

Theramore, too, had made her more vigilant. Giving her full self to someone, or to her city, and having it all come crashing down, burying her in a lifetime of guilt, was something that Jaina wished she could move past completely.

But, she was not certain that could ever happen.

She could bury it as much as she could, she could be open and willing with Sylvanas, but she felt as though the events of her life would always linger, would always shape her, for better or worse.

“What he did to you, what he did to so many others, is far worse than what happened between him and me, and I—“

“It’s not a contest, Proudmoore,” Sylvanas said, her tone sounding just slightly scolding to Jaina’s ears.

“I know that,” Jaina replied, feeling defeated, “I just... I don’t know if I’m strong enough to face him.”

“I’ll be right by your side,” Sylvanas reminded her, squeezing her hand, “and you’ll be right by mine.”

Jaina nodded as Sylvanas pulled her close and kissed her temple. Sylvanas was right. They had each other and they would present a united front and be supportive. They could handle seeing their past, they would confront it and move forward.

“I’m ready,” she said, standing tall.

“Good,” whispered Sylvanas, a grin spreading over her features, “let’s go save the world.”

Together, they stepped on the pad and teleported above. They landed in the middle of the group and Jaina’s eyes fell upon Tyrande, her voice echoing gently over the mountains and through the winds of Icecrown, as she addressed Bolvar.

“We require passage to the Shadowlands,” Tyrande was saying, “and you are the one to provide it.”

Bolvar stood, in all his Lich King glory, armor adorned with spikes and skulls, the Helm of Domination securely over his face. Jaina immediately thought of Arthas and she felt a bit sick. Bolvar was not Arthas, she knew that, but seeing him in the Helm was almost too much and she took a shaky breath to try and steady herself. Vereesa and Thalyssra stood next to her as Sylvanas moved forward to stand near Tyrande. She grasped their offered hands for comfort.

Sylvanas stood a few paces from Tyrande and Jaina watched as the Night Warrior bristled at how close Sylvanas was to her. Jaina could see rage and hatred all over Tyrande’s face, could see glowing skin and dark eyes, could see sheer power and strength radiating from her, just waiting for any excuse to unleash it all. Jaina found herself bristling as well, fully prepared once again for a fight.

As before, none came, and Tyrande turned back to Bolvar as Sylvanas began addressing him.

“What Lady Whisperwind said is correct, and I’ve been told that the way to the Shadowlands would become clear when I arrived here.”

Tyrande grunted and Sylvanas turned to her. Jaina watched as they exchanged tense looks, then Tyrande’s eyes widened. “It’s connected to the Helm,” she said suddenly, “it has to be.”

Sylvanas nodded once. “That’s my thought as well. It’s powerful and I think we can use it to reach the Shadowlands, but the question is how, exactly, we do that.”

There were scattered conversations and ideas being shared, when Bolvar cleared his throat and stepped towards Tyrande and Sylvanas. “If you take this, the Scourge will run free, with no one to control them.”

“That’s a risk we’ll have to take,” said Sylvanas, “the world is in far more danger at the moment.”

Bolvar’s eyes glowed blue and Jaina felt weak. She gripped her friends’ hands tighter, wishing she was stronger. She wanted to stand firm, to not be affected so easily. She tried to remind herself, once again, that Bolvar was not Arthas. It was still difficult to separate the two when they wore the Helm and Jaina was instantly transported back years before, her memories threatening to take her over and destroy her.

She was broken out of her thoughts by Bolvar’s voice, stern, but understanding. “I don’t wish to fight. If you desire the Helm to reach the Shadowlands, you may have it. Simply be aware of what you are unleashing here, and decide if it’s worth it.”

“It is,” Sylvanas said, and Jaina shivered at the certainty and finality in her tone. “Undead running free across Azeroth won’t matter if the machine of Death fails entirely and even more horrifying monsters break free from the Shadowlands to come here.”

Tyrande nodded her agreement and reached out a hand towards Bolvar. “If you would kindly relinquish the Helm, we can be on our way.”

Bolvar sighed deeply and reached up, slowly, carefully, pulling off the Helm and revealing his terribly burned face. He placed it in Tyrande’s outstretched hand and Sylvanas ran her fingers over it. Jaina realized the banshee was trembling. Tyrande seemed to notice as well, but she mercifully said nothing. Perhaps, Jaina thought, Tyrande understood how Sylvanas could still be affected by something that had previously been the source of a great amount of pain.

Wordlessly, Tyrande handed the Helm to Sylvanas, looking at her expectantly. Sylvanas regarded the Helm and Jaina gingerly released her friends’ hands to walk over to the two women. Sylvanas looked at her with an expression of fear and Jaina regarded her with sympathy, placing a hand atop hers over the Helm.

“What do we do?” Jaina whispered. She ignored the look Tyrande was giving the two of them. The Night Warrior had clearly realized by now that Jaina and Thalyssra had lied about there being a relationship between the two of them and that the true relationship was between Jaina and Sylvanas. Jaina imagined there would be an exchange of words at some point, that Tyrande would share her opinions regardless of who asked, or did not ask.

Jaina kept looking at Sylvanas, watching as Sylvanas gripped the Helm tightly, her face pulled into a grimace, her eyes blazing like a fire raging out of control. Jaina took a step back when Tyrande did, shaky and fearful. Sylvanas let out a scream worthy of the banshee she was, and Jaina covered her ears as it continued, staring as Sylvanas tore the Helm apart.

The sky lit up as if there was a thunderstorm, as if lightning was striking through the clouds. Jaina lifted her gaze, seeing the sky swirl and pulse, revealing the torn veil between their world and the Shadowlands. Panting, she went back to Sylvanas, placing comforting hands over the banshee’s trembling ones, the broken Helm still in her grasp.

The way was open, but Jaina wondered how they would be able to reach the sky. She tentatively touched one half of the Helm, pulling away when the metal glowed under her fingers. She heard a thoughtful hum on Tyrande’s lips and watched as the Night Warrior approached Sylvanas and placed her palm on the other half of the Helm. It glowed under her hand as well, but she did not pull away.

Jaina watched, as if in a trance, as Tyrande slowly became a swirling mist and ascended at incredible speed, disappearing into the Shadowlands above.

“Well,” said Lor’themar, “I guess that answers the question of how we’re getting up there...”

Jaina felt a smile tugging at her mouth, despite the seriousness of the situation. She looked around, finding the others looking nervous, but willing to follow Tyrande’s example, moving up to place their palms on the Helm.

One by one, the leaders became a soft mist and ascended, until only Jaina and Sylvanas were left, with Bolvar standing near them, looking stoic.

“Ready for this?” Sylvanas asked, the slightest of smiles on her lips.

“I am,” Jaina breathed, returning the smile. She pressed her palm to the Helm, briefly locking eyes with Sylvanas, then shut her eyes tight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait and the short-ish chapter. I have something like 17k words that I’m working on editing and adding things to and generally trying to make sure the Shadowlands and beyond works well. The ending is written, as I think I mentioned in my last update, just needs some tweaks and stuff.
> 
> I’m hoping to just grind out the last few chapters and then post them faster than usual, but we’ll see how it goes. For now, I’m keeping a buffer in place while I make sure I’m able to finish telling the tale I want to tell.
> 
> I’m going to work as hard as I can to get the rest done. Thanks for sticking with me. <3


	18. “There Are Many Ghosts Here”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To say I’m excited for you guys to read this chapter is a _vast_ understatement. I’m so pumped, I hope you all enjoy it.

Jaina felt herself become weightless, felt her body disappear. Suddenly, she could see nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing, but she was aware that she was on her way to the Shadowlands, flying upwards at a blinding speed, much like she had seen Tyrande do.

She did not have time to get used to any part of the journey, because almost immediately, she was back in her body, getting dropped unceremoniously onto the ground near a tower. She panted heavily, trying to draw air into her lungs, only to realize she could not breathe. Or, more accurately, did not need to breathe. The revelation only made her gasp and pant harder and she sat up on her knees, bringing a hand to her throat, trying to feel for her pulse, only to find none.

Terrified, she let out a string of curses that would have made even the toughest and most hardy of sailors blush. She was calmed when Vereesa flew to her, wrapping her in arms that felt as cold as Sylvanas’ arms did. They truly were dead in the Shadowlands, and Jaina hated herself for being so selfish, for being so afraid of a state of being that Sylvanas had been in for years.

To feel as Sylvanas did, to be as Sylvanas was, to undergo what Sylvanas had at the hands of Arthas and Azshara and N’Zoth, and to still have a positive outlook, to still be able to find the good in people, to still be able to find humor in certain situations... the woman was so strong, so powerful. Jaina managed to hold back her tears, but she still found herself holding onto Vereesa as the youngest Windrunner sister stroked her arm reassuringly. Thalyssra joined them, as did Alleria, and the four stayed close, whispering about their experiences on the journey to the Shadowlands, murmuring about their surroundings. It was dark and depressing, dead trees all around, various decrepit buildings throughout the area, lesser monsters wandering nearby. She wondered, once things were back in order, if the look of the place would improve, or if it was always meant to look as it did.

In the distance, Jaina could hear shouting and howling and screaming and she whimpered as she stood. Vereesa was still holding onto her, and she realized her friend needed comfort as much as she did.

Jaina leaned against Vereesa as Thalyssra rested a hand on her shoulder and Alleria gently patted Vereesa’s arm. Jaina looked around, finding the various leaders looking sickly, their skin taking on a blueish-gray pallor. Nathanos, Derek, and Calia were the only ones who still looked like themselves and Genn had shifted into his worgen form, growling faintly. Tyrande seemed to not be as affected as the rest, though she still looked different.

Thalyssra patted Jaina’s arm and leaned in, her voice hushed, as she asked, “How did that cabin work out for you and Sylvanas?”

Jaina turned to her, and had she not been dead, she knew she would have been blushing. She smiled softly and said, “It’s perfect. Cozy and lovely.”

Thalyssra returned the smile as Vereesa and Alleria exchanged glances. Jaina gulped. She did not know Alleria nearly as well as she knew Vereesa, and she had not even told the youngest Windrunner sister about her steadily blossoming relationship with Sylvanas. She could tell Tyrande had figured it out, but she did not know if Vereesa had as well.

Vereesa squinted at her, tilting her head. “Are you—ah—close with Sylvanas?” Vereesa was hopping nervously from foot to foot, while Alleria fixed Jaina with a hard stare.

Jaina bit her lip as Thalyssra patted her arm again. “We’ve... become close, yes,” she said awkwardly, as Alleria huffed.

Vereesa pinched Alleria’s arm and smiled at Jaina. “I’m glad,” Vereesa murmured, and Jaina saw tears in her eyes. “Sylvanas needs someone, even if she would be hesitant to admit it.” Jaina smiled nervously as Vereesa moved forward and hugged her tightly, whispering, “The fact that it’s you makes me incredibly happy.”

Jaina’s smile grew and she closed her eyes as Vereesa cried happy, relieved tears on her shoulder. Jaina opened her eyes to find Alleria giving her a resigned look. The ranger shook her head and rubbed her temple, but she seemed to soften.

“Sylvanas has always been... difficult, to say the least,” grumbled Alleria. “If you actually managed to make her be... _less_ difficult... I can respect that.”

Jaina pulled back from Vereesa and tugged a still grumbling Alleria into a brief hug, chuckling softly. “Thank you.”

“Uh huh,” Alleria said with a slight smirk.

Vereesa patted Alleria’s shoulder as the eldest Windrunner sulked, just a little. She held out her hands in front of her, inspecting her new, temporary look. She frowned and shivered as she spoke.

“I don’t know how Sylvanas deals with this every day,” she mumbled. “Look at us... Death personified.”

“She’s strong,” Jaina said, feeling a bit defensive. Alleria met her gaze and gave her what seemed like a reluctant nod.

“She’s a lot of things,” Alleria said quietly. “I... do admire her strength.”

“She loves you both,” Jaina whispered. “She just wants the two of you to be safe.”

“I... feel the same,” Alleria said, her voice cracking with emotion. Vereesa grasped her hand, looking up at her with a soft smile. Alleria turned to her and smiled as well, and Jaina felt relief flood through her.

After a few more quiet moments, Alleria and Vereesa linked arms and wandered away, but not before Vereesa gave Jaina a kiss on the cheek. Thalyssra squeezed Jaina’s arm and went to speak with Nathanos. Derek and Calia walked over to Jaina, the two of them embracing her.

“Are you all right, Jaina?” Derek asked, concerned.

“I’m okay,” Jaina answered, “just a bit shaken.”

Derek nodded and Calia grasped his arm, looking around a bit fearfully. “I don’t like this place...”

“I don’t, either,” Jaina said, “but we’ll be able to go home soon enough.”

“Do you think we’ll see anyone here that we know?” Calia asked, and Jaina watched her fidget nervously with the sleeve of her top.

Jaina swallowed hard, her face clearly displaying her unease, if Calia’s sudden gasp was anything to go by. She felt guilty again. Both Calia and Sylvanas had far more of a connection to Arthas than she, she thought. Jaina struggled to find the words that would represent how she felt, and represent that she was on Calia’s side. They exchanged nervous looks, and Jaina thought that Calia seemed small and frightened, in sharp contrast to how she had normally carried herself since her transformation.

Wordlessly, Jaina pulled her into a fierce hug, holding her tightly as Calia sighed heavily on her shoulder. They stayed that way for a short time, then Calia pulled back, her eyes watery. They exchanged soft smiles, then Calia linked her arm with Derek’s, and they walked away to speak quietly. Jaina watched them go, her heart—her dead, not beating heart—feeling heavy. She looked down, thoughts of how Calia might be affected by seeing her brother again running through her mind.

She did not have much time to think, because she saw Anduin and Go’el making their way over to her. When Anduin was close enough, Jaina drew him into her arms for a quick hug. “Are you all right?”

“I’m okay, Auntie,” he said, his voice a bit unsteady. “I just... can’t feel my heartbeat, and... I can’t breathe...”

Jaina smiled when he did, the two of them trying to absorb how ridiculous their situation was, and how likely it was that it would become more ridiculous still.

“It’s going to take some getting used to,” she said gently, “but I hope we’ll be back home before we need to.”

Go’el held out his hands in front of him, inspecting himself. His skin was still mostly green, but the Shadowlands had given it a blueish-gray hue like the others. He groaned and shook his head and Jaina patted one of his arms reassuringly.

“We’ll be home soon,” she said. “Aggra and the kids will barely have any time to miss you.”

A deep chuckle rumbled in Go’el’s chest. “I do hope you’re right, my friend, she was already uneasy about me coming here, but I knew I had to help.”

“I’m relieved so many came,” Jaina whispered, her voice full of wonder. “It always gives me hope to see the Alliance and Horde working together.”

Go’el nodded. “I feel the same, and I do hope we can make it permanent.”

Jaina smiled softly. “I think we can. We’ve come together to save the world... again... I’d like to think we can move past fighting each other once and for all.”

Go’el brightened and leaned towards her, saying, “I’ve missed your optimism, my friend. It’s wonderful to hear it again.”

“It means so much to hear you say that, Go’el,” Jaina whispered, reaching to clasp his hands briefly in her own. They exchanged warm smiles, then Go’el gave her a nod and walked over to speak with Baine. Anduin followed and the three men began a conversation as Jaina sighed and looked around.

The leaders had all split off into smaller groups to chat and Jaina saw that Tyrande and Malfurion were away from everyone else, both standing tall and proud, looking about and speaking quietly to one another. She saw Kalec break away from Wrathion and Magni and start walking over to her, one hand in his pocket and the other in his wavy blue hair.

“You all right? You had me worried when you got here.” He dropped the hand in his hair and fixed her with a kind and concerned look.

Jaina nodded, a small smile on her lips. “I’m fine. Not every day you touch a magical piece of armor and get transported to purgatory.”

Kalec grinned. “That’s very true. Hopefully, we won’t have to make a habit of it. It’s a bit unsettling not being able to breathe or feel my heart beat...”

“Yeah,” Jaina agreed, now smirking, “I can’t say that I like it.”

They shared amused smiles, then turned to glance around at everyone else. Kalec turned back first, saying sincerely, “It really is good to see you again, Jaina. Working with you to ensure the world’s safety, and working alongside the Alliance and Horde, it feels amazing.”

Jaina gave him a warm smile, feeling tears creep into the corners of her eyes. She blinked them back as she thought about what an incredible feat it was that the factions had come together to achieve a common goal. Kalec was right, it absolutely felt amazing.

“It does,” she said, “and it feels far better than fighting each other. I’d much rather do this forever.” She shook her head slightly at Kalec’s raised eyebrow and amended her statement. “That is to say, I want everyone to keep working together, and I hope it won’t always involve being dead and coming back to this place...”

Kalec chuckled. “I understand,” he said, “and I agree. A relative peace is nice.”

Jaina nodded and said softly, “Peace is definitely good.”

They exchanged kind looks and smiles, then Kalec gestured in the direction of Wrathion and Magni and took his leave. Jaina sighed heavily, the action serving to calm her a little. She turned, spying monsters off in the cloudy distance, roaming around but not seemingly endangering anyone, at least for the moment. She wondered just how many other monsters were here, shivering when she realized she did not want to find out. She knew that Azshara was here somewhere, and that was already bad enough.

Jaina was so consumed with her thoughts of the Shadowlands’ inhabitants, that she realized with a start that Sylvanas had yet to arrive. She looked around frantically, her eyes falling upon a long trail of smoke making its way towards everyone. The smoke stopped near her and Sylvanas took shape from it, fixing Jaina with a soft, sweet look. Jaina wanted to embrace her, but she resisted the urge and simply nodded instead.

“I see you all made it,” Sylvanas said calmly, her gaze roaming the crowd. “Once you have your bearings, we can head up the tower.”

“What awaits us?” Tyrande all but demanded, her arms folded over her chest. Jaina realized that the Night Warrior suddenly seemed even more imposing and frightening than she had when they first arrived.

“I’m going to introduce you all to the Jailer, as he’s been waiting for us. He’ll tell us what needs to be done and we’ll do it. The machine of Death is not far, we’ll need to get our hands dirty to fix it.”

“_What_?” Jaina burst out, as all eyes snapped to her. “Are you saying that the machine of Death is actually... a _machine_?”

Sylvanas let out a sound that was somewhere between a snort and a chuckle and if Jaina had been alive, her ears would have burned with embarrassment. She had not guessed that the machine of Death was real, how could she have? She was certain it was metaphorical, not an actual device or apparatus, that the anima feeding it was simply going to the Shadowlands, filling the area with energy.

“I’m sorry,” Sylvanas said, still chuckling, “I guess I should have mentioned that it was an entirely real object and that the anima is greasing its wheels so it can continue to run.”

Jaina swallowed, still embarrassed. She looked around at the others and was even more mortified to find that nearly everyone else looked as though they had somehow gleaned that the machine was, in fact, real. She felt small and insignificant, but she felt just a little comfort when Vereesa slipped an arm through hers and whispered that she did not know either. Anduin, Jaina noticed, also seemed bewildered at the revelation. Feeling marginally better, she sighed and shook her head.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, almost dismissively, “let’s just go meet the Jailer and get started on what we need to do.”

“Well said,” Lor’themar put in, walking towards the steps. “I’m eager to meet this fellow, I must say. I imagine he’s quite entertaining, given how humorless his job is. He’d have to be, to stay sane here...”

“You’re assuming that he’s sane,” Tyrande nearly snapped. “He’s overseeing the imprisonment of some of the most dangerous monsters to ever exist. He could be an absolute madman.”

Various voices spoke up, offering their own opinions on the Jailer. Genn agreed with Tyrande, while some of the others were more open and reasonable. Jaina looked towards Sylvanas, finding her with a hand under her chin, her elbow propped up by her other arm. Her expression could only be described as deeply amused. Jaina watched her shake her head and then turn on her heel, taking the steps two at a time. Jaina followed, leaving the leaders lost in their own conversation.

Sylvanas immediately took Jaina’s hand and Jaina smiled, appreciating the quiet moment away from prying eyes. Then, Sylvanas spoke. “You truly had no idea it was a real machine?”

Jaina frowned, somewhat grateful for the low light of the tower’s interior as they ascended its winding steps. She gave Sylvanas an exasperated sigh, not wanting to dredge up her embarrassment again. Sylvanas tugged at her hand and Jaina realized the banshee had stopped on the stairs, leaning back against the railing, her eyes bright and playful. If being in the Shadowlands had not stopped Jaina’s heart, it would have been pounding in her chest.

She let Sylvanas pull her close, let her rest chilled hands on her hips. Jaina moved her own cool hands to Sylvanas’ face and leaned in for a kiss. Kissing felt mostly the same, she thought, but it was missing the warmth that would normally spread through her. In its place, was an almost equally pleasant chill that sent shockwaves through her whole body.

After a few moments, she pulled away with a gasp, suddenly dizzy, but Sylvanas tugged her back, kissing her again. Jaina began to feel slightly ill, missing the warmth, missing how she normally felt, missing it all.

She wanted to go home.

She started to wonder what Sylvanas felt when they kissed, wondered how she had felt when they slept together, but did not ask. Sylvanas was not technically undead, she was a banshee inhabiting her old body, and that was different, Jaina thought.

It took her a few extra moments to notice that Sylvanas had pulled back and was looking at her curiously. She was grateful, the kisses were steadily making her more dizzy—not in a pleasant way—and the chill that _had_ been pleasant, now just made her feel colder than she already was. She felt sick, her body trembling as she heaved a sob and buried her face in Sylvanas’ neck.

Sylvanas was stiff against her for a moment, then wrapped chilled arms around her and held her tightly, one hand rubbing her back.

“How do you do it?” Jaina burst out, and she bit her tongue hard. She was not going to say anything, but the words had flown out of her mouth anyway and she felt like an enormous jerk.

Sylvanas stiffened again and her hand stilled. “Be dead?” she asked, her voice a monotone.

Jaina shivered at how cold Sylvanas sounded. It reminded her of when she had gone to the Stockades to break her out and Sylvanas had already seemed as though she had given up. “Yes,” she replied, then added quickly, nearly stumbling over her words, “I felt okay at first, but as we kissed, I started to feel awful, sick and dizzy, and I—“

“I don’t feel any of that,” Sylvanas interrupted, “I’m a banshee, if you’ll recall.” Jaina felt chastised by the words as Sylvanas pulled away to look in her eyes. She realized she had been right, at least. It was, in fact, different because she was a banshee. “I feel mostly what I felt when I was alive. My senses are a bit lessened, I’m cold and hard, where I used to be warm and soft, but I still feel some pleasure... and some pain.”

Jaina watched Sylvanas’ eyes as the banshee turned away from her and looked down. Guilt flooded her. What had she done? Why had she said anything at all?

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Jaina whispered. “I’m just trying to deal with—“

“Being dead,” Sylvanas finished the sentence, her voice cold, and Jaina swallowed hard, beginning to head up the steps, only to be pulled back into strong arms as Sylvanas very lightly and gently began kissing her neck. “I know. I didn’t adjust to it quickly, and I don’t expect you to, either.” Her voice low and soft, she added, “You won’t even have to, you’ll be yourself again soon enough.”

Jaina closed her eyes. She still felt dizzy and a bit faint, but with Sylvanas’ lips on her neck, hands on her hips, body pressed against hers... she began to feel just a bit better, but she longed to be back in the cottage in Suramar, away from everyone else.

“I’m sorry,” Jaina murmured, “I’m sorry.”

Sylvanas was still kissing her neck, hands securely on her waist, then sliding upwards so that chilled thumbs pressed against the sides of her breasts. “I’ve had a long time to get used to this,” she whispered between kisses, “and sometimes, it’s still strange, still hurts. But, having people by my side, it’s made it easier.”

Jaina nodded, slipping her hands into Sylvanas’ hair, holding the banshee close when she felt light nips on her neck. Her eyes were still closed and her dizziness was increasing, but she did not want Sylvanas to stop and she whimpered when the banshee eventually pulled away.

Sylvanas reached up, running her hands through Jaina’s hair and cupping her face, pressing the sweetest, most loving kiss to her lips. Jaina nearly wept, her hands reaching for Sylvanas to pull her even closer.

“What about Arthas?” she asked suddenly. She shook her head and said, “I know we already talked about it a little, but now we’re here. Now this is real. What will we do if we see him?”

Sylvanas licked her lips and Jaina saw her eyes darken. It was a few long, uncomfortable moments before she finally answered. “When I saw him here before, he seemed to be a lost little boy, forever reaping what he sowed, doomed to be haunted by all of the terrible decisions he made in life.”

Jaina nodded slowly, but her mind was not eased, not yet. “How do you feel?” she asked.

“I made my peace with what happened,” Sylvanas said, and Jaina swallowed at her somewhat harsh tone. “As I said before, I don’t know how I’ll react if I see more than a glimpse of him.” She softened and stroked Jaina’s cheek. “We’ll find out together.”

Jaina looked down as Sylvanas brushed a bit of hair out of her eyes. “I’ve tried to make my own peace with everything he did,” she began quietly, as Sylvanas stroked her hair, “but it’s been difficult, even with him gone. ‘Out of sight, out of mind’ hasn’t worked too well for me.” She looked back up, gazing into understanding red eyes, stepping forward as Sylvanas wrapped chilled arms around her. “I... hope I’ll be civil. I hope I’ll be understanding and open and ready to listen if he has something to say.”

“You don’t have to,” Sylvanas said. “If you don’t want to speak to him, no one will force you to do so. I certainly don’t intend to speak with him, even if the opportunity arises.” Jaina’s brow furrowed and Sylvanas pulled her closer. “Even having made my peace, I won’t seek him out. It’s over. We can’t change the past, Jaina, we can only move forward.”

It was a common theme amongst those Jaina had spoken with, that the past was the past, and the future was what mattered. The future was what they could change, and that was what Jaina knew she needed to focus on. She sighed gently and leaned forward, nuzzling Sylvanas’ neck and closing her eyes. Sylvanas held her close, fingers massaging her hair. They stayed like that for a couple of minutes before Jaina finally pulled back, looking into Sylvanas’ eyes, a heavy sigh on her lips.

“We’ll be back home before you know it,” Sylvanas whispered, her voice full of reassurance. Jaina made out a small smile on the banshee’s lips, but she could not bring herself to speak, she could only nod. “Stay strong, Dalah’surfal, for me and for you.”

“I will,” Jaina promised, pressing her forehead to Sylvanas’.

“Think of Suramar,” Sylvanas continued, her voice warm as she husked, “think of that cozy little cabin, think of my arms around you, holding you in my lap...”

“Sylvanas...” Jaina was beginning to picture it and she wanted it badly. If she could breathe, she would have let slip a trembling, shuddering breath.

The banshee chuckled. “I’ll stop. We’re about to have company anyway.”

There were footfalls on the stairs and Jaina stole a quick kiss and they continued upwards. The footsteps grew louder and soon, the rest of the group had caught up. Together, they all walked for a short while, until they finally reached a pair of heavy stone doors that seemingly begged to be opened.

Jaina gulped and looked at Sylvanas, finding the banshee with an almost wicked gleam in her eye. Jaina started to get caught up in the banshee’s excitement, realizing that she was eager to meet the Jailer and see what he was like.

She put her hand on one of the heavy doorknobs and Sylvanas put hers on the other. With nervous smiles, they pushed open the doors.

“Sylvanas!”

A joyful voice rang out and Jaina’s eyes widened at the sight before her. There was a man who stood taller than her by at least two feet, dressed in rich black robes. He had blueish green skin and his wrists were adorned with golden bracers that gleamed brightly, almost as brightly as his ornamented shoulders that stood even taller than he did. His hands were large, with claws on the ends of his fingertips. Decorative chains hung off his body and he wore a small golden crown that bore a bit of resemblance to the Helm of Domination. His hair was as white as Jaina’s, with a long, full beard that ran down the length of his torso.

He did not necessarily look menacing, but he certainly seemed imposing, and Jaina was gobsmacked at his grin and his jovial tone of voice. Her jaw nearly dropped when Sylvanas walked right up to him and gave him a hug.

“It’s been too long, my girl! So much has changed!”

“I can tell,” said Sylvanas, matching the Jailer’s light tone, “and I’ve brought along help to restore everything to how it should be.”

“I see, I see,” said the Jailer, stroking his chin. He laughed and his ludicrously long beard shook when he did. “Well, don’t leave me in suspense! Introduce me!”

Sylvanas chuckled and named off everyone one by one, saving Jaina for last. The Jailer gave everyone a warm smile, his eyes looking all of them up and down. He seemed to lose a bit of his excitement when Sylvanas introduced Tyrande, and Jaina wondered if someone as powerful as the Jailer no doubt was, could actually be afraid of anyone or anything. The thought chilled her so much she was almost unaware when the Jailer began to speak to her.

“Jaina Proudmoore,” he began kindly, “your father has been instrumental in keeping the Shadowlands up and running. He’s a courageous soul and he talks about you often.”

Jaina felt weak. How could she have not considered that she may see her father here, in addition to Arthas or others? She had been so consumed by the fear of seeing her first love again that she had not thought about who else she may see in the Shadowlands.

“My father?” she repeated dumbly, her voice faltering.

“Yes,” the Jailer said, “Daelin is one of my lieutenants. He and a couple of others ensure that the most deadly of prisoners stay within the Shadowlands, unable to escape. With enough anima, that task is usually not too difficult, but with the machine of Death in its current state, the flow of anima has been minimal, and the task has been very tough indeed.”

Jaina tentatively turned to Go’el, finding that he was already at her side, a sympathetic and somber expression on his face as he took her hand in his and held it gently.

Still weak, her voice tremulous, she asked, “Will I see him?”

The Jailer seemed to understand her discomfort and fear and he walked over to her, his chains rattling gently, as he took her free hand in his. “Barring any unforeseen circumstances, you do not have to see anyone you do not wish to see.”

Jaina was hung up on his statement about “unforeseen circumstances,” but she swallowed and tried to ignore the uneasy feeling that had settled in her stomach. She looked up and gave him an appreciative nod. “Thank you.”

“Of course, of course! You are all guests in the Maw, in my home, such as it is! I want you all to be as comfortable as possible!”

Jaina nodded again as the Jailer moved back to his original position and leaned comfortably against the railing of the tower balcony.

“There are many ghosts here,” the Jailer said, his face darkening, “but they are not how they were. They are reformed, their existences are dedicated to keeping this place up and running, and by extension, keeping your world up and running and safe from as many dangers as possible.

“If any of you see anyone you know, anyone who is working for me, realize that they’ve changed. Realize that they’ve seen the error of their ways and they have repented. I will not tolerate violence between my citizens and you.”

Jaina shivered at his words, shivered at how menacing he now seemed. She knew he was protecting his people, but she was afraid of how she would react if she saw a certain—

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of even louder screams in the distance, the sounds of fighting, the sounds of heavy footfalls running up stairs. She turned to the doors that had swung shut after they had all entered, the doors that were now bursting open, revealing two men.

She opened her mouth to scream, but it died in her throat.

“Here are two of my lieutenants now!” the Jailer announced with a smile. “We all heard a commotion, what news do you bring, my sons?”

“The newest arrival is threatening to tear the machine of Death apart!”

“If she does, all hope is lost! We need to stop her!”

Jaina’s knees nearly buckled. They had not noticed her, not yet, but she knew they would soon. “Kael?” she whispered, almost to herself. He heard her, and he froze at her voice. “_Arthas_?”

Both men turned to look at her, shock evident on their faces. They looked as she remembered them, Kael in rich, stunning robes, and Arthas in heavy armor that barely encased his muscular frame.

“Jaina?” They spoke her name in unison, exchanging glances with one another.

Jaina looked between them both, balling her hands into angry fists, her body pulsing with arcane energy.

“_What the fuck_?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!
> 
> So, early on when I knew I wanted to take the story to the Shadowlands (like at least a couple months ago), I started thinking about what characters I wanted and needed to write, which ones might be in the Shadowlands, and which ones would be cool to see.
> 
> Arthas was the big one and I wanted to have a bit of Kael as well, and of course, I had to write the Jailer. I made the decision pretty quickly to have the Jailer be a humorous character with a serious side because I’m almost positive that he’s going to be some boring-ass dude in the actual expac. So here, I get to have some fun with him, and I think I mentioned before that I give approximately zero fucks about Blizz’s canon regarding the Shadowlands, and I just want to make an enjoyable story instead.
> 
> So again, if there’s anything in current known or upcoming canon that my story diverts from, fuck it! I just want to have fun.
> 
> Getting back to Arthas and Kael, I thought it would be interesting to deviate from who they ended up as in life and explore the possibility of reform. The Shadowlands is essentially a prison, so I feel like reform fits in well.
> 
> In any case, the next chapter is close to 9k words and try as I might, I haven’t been able to find a natural end point that doesn’t mess with the flow of the chapter, so you guys will be getting a long-ass chapter soon.
> 
> I’ve basically finished writing the story as of just a few minutes ago, so all that remains now is to edit and make sure everything works well. I believe I’m now up to 21 chapters and a very short and sweet epilogue that I may just fold into chapter 21, but we’ll see.
> 
> I’m going to work as quickly as possible to edit the remaining chapters and get them posted. Once again, thanks for reading and sticking with me.


	19. “Show Me You’ve Changed, Show Me You Want What’s Best for the World”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhh, so I found an end point. Roughly around 5500 words or so, and the next chapter is around 4500-ish. I added some stuff to this chapter and I may add some things to the next, just to make sure everything flows and works well.
> 
> Enjoy this one!

Jaina instinctively took several steps back, colliding with the Jailer. She gasped and moved away, but she allowed herself a quick glance at him, seeing sympathy in his eyes.

“I take it you know these two,” he whispered, leaning down so only she could hear him.

“Yes,” Jaina answered, swallowing the near-sob in her throat, “yes, I do.”

“They’re two of my finest. The Arbiter judged them and sent them to me. I worked with them, molded them, shaped them into who they are now. They are two of my most trusted, most respected men.”

Jaina looked towards Arthas and Kael, seeing the leaders gathering around the two men, asking various questions, caution and uneasiness in their tones, clearly heeding the Jailer’s words about fighting. Calia looked incredibly uneasy to see her brother again, but Jaina saw Derek slip a protective arm around her, and her resolve seemed to strengthen. Sylvanas was the only one refraining from speaking with either of them and Jaina saw an unreadable expression on her face.

She watched Sylvanas slip away from the crowd and move towards her, reaching up and tucking a bit of hair behind her ear. Sylvanas looked at her expectantly and Jaina realized she did not know what to say.

“I... I knew it was likely I would see him again,” she whispered, “and now I’ve seen Kael as well.” She looked down, feeling guilty that she was so shaken and Sylvanas, at least on the surface, was so poised. When she looked back up, she said, “I’m not sure this is something I know how to handle.”

She could feel both the Jailer and Sylvanas staring at her and she shivered. She looked up at the banshee, finding her with an almost cold expression and she moved away, walking as far as the balcony would allow, away from everyone. She heard Sylvanas’ boots clicking on the ground and turned to face her as she approached.

“Why are you angry with me?” Jaina asked, her voice soft and shaky.

Sylvanas shook her head and stepped closer, grasping her upper arms. The look on her face was kind and sincere. “I’m not. We need to be strong. I trust the Jailer.”

Jaina trembled as Sylvanas held her. She considered Sylvanas’ words as she looked into now warm, pleading eyes. “You trust the Jailer,” she said slowly, “and I trust you.”

A soft smile lit up Sylvanas’ face and she embraced Jaina. Jaina was acutely aware that all of the leaders, the Jailer, and Arthas and Kael were staring at them. She reached up, taking Sylvanas’ face in her hands, and kissed her. She closed her eyes, ignoring the huffs that had to be from Tyrande, as well as the other reactions, not caring about anyone else.

She lost herself in the kiss, lost herself in Sylvanas’ hands in her hair, lost herself in the way Sylvanas smiled against her lips when they slowly separated. She turned to their allies, finding that all but Tyrande had looked away quickly, finding the tower and surrounding scenery suddenly very interesting. Tyrande just fixed them both with an icy stare before finally looking away.

Sylvanas leaned close and whispered in her ear, “We’ll make it through this. We survived Arthas once, we’ll do it again.”

Jaina just nodded as Sylvanas nuzzled her cheek, then went to join the others. She saw Alleria and Vereesa immediately stand on either side of Sylvanas, their backs and shoulders tense and ready, clearly prepared to defend their sister if necessary. Jaina felt a faint smile cross her lips as she looked at the sisters. It warmed her to see the three of them together, to see them putting aside any worries and reservations to protect each other. It would be easier for Vereesa, but for Alleria, it would certainly be more challenging.

Jaina found it inspiring and she hoped it would continue. They could all use a break and they were all getting a happy ending, she would make sure of it.

She flinched just a little when she felt the Jailer move next to her, crossing his arms and leaning comfortably against the railing. He bumped her shoulder with his own. “Your father has sung your praises ever since he arrived here. He’s spoken of your strength and your conviction and how proud he is of you.”

Jaina felt a chill run down her spine. She still harbored guilt over her father’s death, amongst other events in her life, even if she had managed to move on as best she could. She almost did not want to believe what the Jailer had said. She had loved her father—still did and always would—but he had perished because of a deep hatred for anyone different.

The fact that he could change, could again be the man and father she once deeply respected... it seemed insane. Could anyone truly change that much? She gasped softly at the thought. Was that why the Jailer had told her about her father? To make it easier for her to see that Arthas, as well as Kael, could change, too?

She thought about her conversation with Derek, before his conditioning had forced him to attack her.

_“She’s not a good person, mind-controlled or not. She deserves to die.”_

_“No, she doesn’t. People change, Derek. No one is innocent. Countless allies and enemies alike have blood on their hands, including me.”_

She looked down, sighing heavily at the memory, feeling the Jailer’s gaze on her. He bumped her shoulder again. “People can change,” he said gently, mirroring her own thoughts, “whether it’s for worse or better.” He nodded towards Arthas and Kael as Jaina looked up. “My lieutenants changed for the better. It was not easy, but they became people I trust and respect.”

Jaina nodded stiffly, watching the tense interactions everyone was having with Arthas and Kael. She could accept what the Jailer had told her, she would have to, if she did not want to incur the Jailer’s ire.

It would just be incredibly difficult.

“There’s work to be done,” the Jailer said, standing up straight. “Fix Death and you can go home, forget all you’ve seen here.”

“I don’t want to forget,” Jaina murmured, surprising herself. She heard the Jailer chuckle next to her.

“That’s good. I don’t expect you to accept what you’ve seen overnight, or ever, perhaps. I only hope you’ll understand.”

“I do,” Jaina said, looking up at him, softening when he smiled. “Thank you for talking with me.”

He gave her a nod and patted her arm. Kindly, he urged her, “Get going, they’ll explain what needs doing.”

Jaina inhaled deeply, the action calming her despite the fact that she could not actually breathe. She was about to make her way over to the group when a thought struck her. The Jailer had seemed uneasy when Tyrande was introduced and Jaina was curious as to why.

“Could I ask you something?”

The Jailer turned to her and said warmly, “Fire away.”

“Tyrande,” Jaina began, and she thought she saw the Jailer flinch, “seemed to make you... a little uncomfortable when Sylvanas talked about her.” Jaina sighed and looked curiously up at the Jailer as he seemed to mull over her words.

“Elune is someone with whom I have had only brief contact over the years. I know _of_ her more than I know her, and I’ve also heard of the Night Warrior.”

The Jailer paused and Jaina watched him lick his lips and nervously reflect on his own words.

“I know the kind of power she can command, the kind of power that Elune has been commanding forever. It could very well further upset the balance between Life and Death by endangering Death more than it already is.

“I fear that her power could disrupt the Maw, and perhaps, other areas of the Shadowlands as well. I hope that doesn’t happen. As you can see, this place is already in shambles, and I’d rather not have to do any more cleanup than necessary.”

Jaina shivered at his words. She looked up at him, asking in a hushed voice, “What is she capable of?”

The Jailer met her gaze with something of a resigned smile. “I think the better question is, ‘what _isn’t_ she capable of?’”

Jaina turned to Tyrande, looking her up and down, noting her stern, eager expression. She was clearly ready to get down to business. Jaina exchanged a look with the Jailer and swallowed hard, hoping Tyrande would not make things worse than they already were.

She shook her head to clear it and finally walked over to the group, standing near Thalyssra and linking her arm with the elder mage’s. Thalyssra smiled without turning to her, still focused on what Arthas and Kael were saying.

“Azshara is amongst the most powerful beings here,” said Kael. “She’s holding the machine of Death hostage, so we won’t be able to get close and repair it unless we deal with her first.”

Tyrande stood up straighter and rolled her shoulders back, a wicked smirk on her lips. “I’ve been waiting for a chance to go head to head with her,” the Night Warrior said, her voice sounding rather uncharacteristically enthusiastic. “I’m looking forward to this.”

“You and me, both,” said Thalyssra, and Jaina shivered at the amused smiles the two women shared.

“She’s all yours,” Sylvanas told them, folding her arms over her chest. “I’ve already killed her twice.”

“Hmph,” Tyrande muttered. “The First Arcanist and I will make sure she never leaves this place.”

Jaina wondered what had happened while she and Sylvanas were in Icecrown and Thalyssra, Nathanos, Calia, and Derek had been gathering allies. It had not seemed like it initially, but it was now clear that whatever Thalyssra had said had not only convinced Tyrande to assist in the Shadowlands, but also to join forces with Thalyssra and enjoy doing so.

It was a big step forward, one that Jaina hoped would extend to Sylvanas’ fate once they were home and Tyrande was deciding what would happen to her. Still though, Jaina worried about what Tyrande might do while they were in the Shadowlands. Once again, she tried to clear her head, and looked towards Arthas and Kael.

“How do we deal with Azshara?” Jaina asked, directing the question to Kael. She squared her shoulders as she spoke. “Can she be killed here, or just permanently imprisoned?”

Kael visibly swallowed when he turned to her. He gave her the slightest of bows and she subtly inclined her head as he began speaking. “She can be imprisoned here forever, but it’s going to take some work. The machine of Death is covered in corruption, which is contributing to it barely working. It was already suffering from a lack of anima, but she started corrupting it once she arrived, ensuring that the machine cannot run at its full capacity. It’s possible we could create a diversion and draw her attention away.”

Arthas spoke up, his voice steady. “If we can slip past her and cleanse the corruption, we can get the machine going again, which will reactivate wards and other systems that are in place to hold prisoners back. Right now, they’re only functioning at a low percentage of power, using residual anima already stored in the machine.”

Jaina felt even colder than she had, thinking about the corruption. How, exactly, had Azshara managed to corrupt it? Had N’Zoth granted her one final gift when he brought her back for the last time?

“Is this N’Zoth’s doing?” Thalyssra asked. “Did he do something to Azshara that made her capable of corrupting the machine?”

“Seems that way,” Jaina answered her own and Thalyssra’s query with a heavy sigh. “That complicates things.” She shook her head, another thought running through her mind, one that made her stand up a little straighter, made her more than a little upset. “Where’s the anima from N’Zoth? From the minions that were killed all over Azeroth?” she demanded, hands on her hips. She stared Arthas down as she spoke, feeling courageous and assured despite being in his presence. She knew it was because she was surrounded by friends, by people who loved and cared for her, and she felt an even stronger surge of confidence. With her friends by her side, there was nothing and no one she could not face.

There was a pause before Arthas spoke again, and Jaina could feel his eyes searching hers. The expression on his face told her he longed to take her aside and speak to her privately. She tensed at the way he looked at her, feeling deeply uncomfortable. “It’s being held securely under the tower here, in a sealed container in the cellar. Once the machine is repaired, we can open the container and it’ll find its own way there.”

“How do we remove the corruption?” Tyrande asked. “What can we do?”

Jaina watched as Sylvanas smirked and drew the dagger of Xal’atath from her belt. It gleamed brightly, still infused with azerite. Jaina smiled, thinking about all the corruption Sylvanas had cleansed within Ny’alotha. “Oh, I think I have an idea...”

Tyrande, to her credit, looked intrigued. “How does it work, banshee?”

“I hold the blade to the corruption and it becomes cleansed,” Sylvanas said simply.

“We watched her use it in Ny’alotha,” Jaina said, before Tyrande could express the doubt Jaina knew she had. “There’s no reason it shouldn’t work here, as well.”

Magni spoke up for the first time, adding, “The Black Prince and I designed it specially tae do away wit’ all kinds o’ corruption. It’ll work ‘ere, I’m sure o’ it.”

Wrathion nodded his agreement, finally speaking as well. “The azerite within the blade is powerful enough to cleanse it here and anywhere else.”

Tyrande seemed to consider everyone’s words as she gave Sylvanas and Jaina hard looks, then reluctantly nodded. “Fine. If there are no other suggestions, then I imagine this is our only option.” She smirked. “The fate of the world rests in that dagger and on your shoulders, Windrunner. No pressure...”

Sylvanas smirked back. “I’m up to the challenge, Lady Whisperwind.”

“Good, then we should get moving,” Tyrande said, her tone clipped as she parted the crowd with her hands and prepared to head back down the tower steps.

“There’s one more thing,” Kael said, “and this concerns you, Lady Proudmoore.”

Jaina squinted at him, nervousness settling into her stomach. “What does?”

Arthas sighed gently, and Jaina turned to him, finding his eyes surprisingly warm and caring and she found her thoughts unexpectedly drifting back to when she was young and in love with him, when she thought they would spend the rest of their lives together, ruling Lordaeron and raising a child or two. It felt like a lifetime ago that she felt that way, and she shook her head to clear the thought, her stomach tying itself in knots.

“What do I need to know?”

“Azshara has taken a prisoner,” Arthas said, his tone melancholy, “your father.”

If Jaina’s heart had not already been dead, it would have stopped beating at Arthas’ words. She felt Sylvanas’ hand slip into hers and she looked up at the banshee, into a face that looked to be riddled with guilt.

“This is my doing,” Sylvanas murmured. “She’s punishing you because I killed her again.”

“She’ll pay,” Jaina said firmly.

“She will,” Thalyssra agreed, “we’ll all make sure of it.”

Jaina turned to Thalyssra, finding the elder mage with a determined expression on her face. They exchanged slight, hopeful smiles.

Anduin stepped forward, placing a hand briefly on Jaina’s shoulder and addressing the group. “We need a plan. If you’re all willing, I think I know what might work...”

***

After the group listened closely as Anduin laid out his idea, they all descended the tower and began marching towards the shouts and screams and fighting that they had heard earlier.

Sylvanas led the charge, with Thalyssra and Tyrande near, while most of the group followed loosely behind. Jaina hung back, bringing up the rear with Arthas walking somewhat close to her. She felt sick and nervous. He had been an important part of her life when he was alive, and a constant source of guilt long after he was gone. It had plagued her throughout her whole life and she wanted to truly let it go.

“Can we talk?” he asked, pausing behind her.

Jaina stopped in her tracks. Her mind raced and her stomach felt as though it wanted to expel the oatmeal Sylvanas had made her for breakfast. She moved her hands in front of her, clenching them into fists briefly before letting them relax and rest by her sides.

“We can,” she said finally, turning to him. She was uneasy, but she forced herself to be strong. The sounds of boots crunching the ground slowly faded behind her, the rest of the group continuing on their path.

He walked over to her, immediately reaching for her hands. She nearly recoiled, even as his hands shook and his eyes glistened with tears, his expression conveying deep sorrow and regret. She folded her arms over her chest as Arthas awkwardly dropped his hands by his sides.

She knew that he could not—would not—hurt her or anyone else ever again, and as such, she decided that she would keep an open mind, or at least try. She had made great strides moving past having nothing but hatred in her heart. She would not go back to feeling as she did.

“I have so much I want to say to you,” he began, his voice thick, “and we don’t have very much time.” Jaina said nothing, but she fixed him with a hard stare. “I did everything wrong,” he said, “I hurt so many so deeply, to say nothing of everyone I killed. I have no excuse, I can’t—and won’t—ask for forgiveness or anything of the sort. I just... need you to know that I carry the guilt of what I did every day, and every day, I try to atone as best I can by ensuring that the world is safe.”

Jaina looked down at his still trembling hands. She was not certain what to make of what he had said. Part of her wanted to believe it, but another part of her thought he was just telling her what she wanted to hear, playing up his guilt in an attempt to not only make her feel better, but make himself feel better as well.

Her thoughts turned to Sylvanas and she tensed up, bristling, arcane flowing through her. She realized she wanted him to address what he had done to Sylvanas, what he had made her become. Sylvanas, only if the banshee wished it, should be the one to whom he spoke.

In lieu of responding, she simply nodded and cleared her throat, then began walking away. Arthas sighed, then called after her, his voice sounding pained and pleading. Jaina had not wanted to respond with words. She needed to ruminate on what he had said, lest she react emotionally and make the situation worse. He had all but forced her to respond now. She clenched her fists again, willing herself to stay as calm as possible.

She turned around and demanded, “What do you want me to say?” When he did not answer, she continued, “You already said it, you have no excuse and you can’t ask for forgiveness. I heard what you had to say and I’m going to choose to believe that your words are sincere. I spent years carrying around guilt that I made the wrong decision at Stratholme, that I could have prevented what happened somehow, saved you from yourself.”

She paused to watch his reaction before she pressed on. His eyes were soft, his shoulders slumped, his expression once again full of regret. She felt arcane energy flowing through her again, her body anticipating a fight that she knew would not—could not—come to pass.

“I know that I made the best decision for me and for everyone. I know that it’s not my fault. I’ll likely always wonder what might have happened if I had made a different decision, but I can’t—and won’t—let that govern my life, not anymore.

“If you’ve truly changed, then I’m glad. Relieved, even. I want to believe you, I want to fix things here and go back to my life with the knowledge that you’ll still be here, doing all you can to help keep the world safe. But, actions speak louder than words, Arthas. _Show me_ you’ve changed, _show me_ you want what’s best for the world.

“Until then, I’ve said my piece and you’ve said yours, and there’s nothing more either of us can say.”

Jaina stood tall, still looking at Arthas, as he kept looking at her. She could tell he wanted to say something, try to ease her mind, perhaps. It was irrelevant, he needed to show her he was different.

Words did not matter anymore.

She was slightly startled when she felt gentle fingers on her back, but she knew who it was and she softened, still looking at Arthas. She watched his expression change as Sylvanas stroked her arm with her free hand, leaning close to her, lips brushing against her hair.

“Everything in order here, I hope?” Sylvanas asked, her tone neutral.

Arthas could only manage a nod, while Jaina leaned against Sylvanas, feeling safe and protected, as she said, “Everything’s fine.”

“Good,” said Sylvanas, and Jaina turned to her, watching her regard Arthas with as much indifference as she could muster. “It’s time. Thalyssra and Tyrande are going to draw Azshara’s fire, and I’ll slip behind everyone to remove the corruption. Once it’s gone, I’ll signal to the Jailer to release the stored anima. When the machine is at full power again, we’ll be able to trap Azshara for good.”

“It’s a good plan that Anduin devised,” Jaina said, “but I don’t like that’ll you be alone. It’s too dangerous.”

Sylvanas smiled and nuzzled her cheek. “Come with me,” she said, the familiar words making Jaina brighten, “then I won’t be alone.”

Jaina smiled back, almost forgetting that Arthas was still nearby, and she was startled when he cleared his throat.

“We should get moving, there’s still much to do.”

“Indeed,” said Sylvanas, grasping Jaina’s hand and beginning to lead her towards Azshara.

There was something almost possessive about the way Sylvanas held her hand, and if Jaina was capable of blushing, she would have done so, quite fiercely, in fact. A pleasant shiver coursed through her, and her thoughts briefly turned to Suramar as she pressed a soft kiss to Sylvanas’ shoulder. They walked as though they did not have a care in the world, as if the upcoming battle would not decide everyone’s fate.

Jaina knew they would succeed. They would save her father, they would ensure that neither Azshara nor anyone else would ever escape, they would ensure that the balance between Life and Death was restored, and they would return home to live out the rest of their lives, secure in the knowledge that their world was safe.

They stopped walking when they were close to where Azshara and the machine of Death were, and Jaina saw Tyrande and Thalyssra at the front of the group, preparing to engage. Anduin had made them spread out in such a way that Azshara was forced to keep her eyes focused on them. It was a sound plan, one that would afford Sylvanas—and now Jaina—the opportunity to slip by unnoticed to reach the machine.

Jaina looked around for her father, finding him near Azshara, and she froze at the sight before her. The naga queen was holding him with her tentacles, pushing him forward, and Jaina could see his face scrunched up with anger. He was wildly swinging a cutlass, but he was swinging towards the leaders and not Azshara.

Jaina let out a gasp of horror as she realized that Azshara was forcing him to fight for her. She wondered if Azshara was doing so in the same way she had invaded Derek’s mind, when she suddenly spotted bits of corruption that looked like what she had seen in Ny’alotha blotted on his neck.

She felt Sylvanas looking at her, and she turned to see that the banshee had clearly noticed the corruption as well. They both glanced at the dagger, understanding that once the machine of Death was cleansed, they should be able to cleanse her father as well. At the moment, approaching was too dangerous, they would need to wait and plan their move accordingly.

Beside them, Arthas drew his sword, and Jaina stiffened when she saw cold eyes fall upon her father.

She stepped in front of him, blocking his path, as her eyes blazed and pure arcane energy coursed through her veins. She spoke in a low voice, “If you do _anything_ to hurt my father, Tides help me, I will drag you out of the Shadowlands and kill you again _myself_.”

“I won’t harm him, Jaina,” Arthas said, the strong note of sincerity in his voice making her shiver, “I’ll get him away from Azshara and restrain him until you two are finished.”

Jaina stared hard at him, still processing his words, then turned back to Tyrande and Thalyssra, observing their actions. Thalyssra held up a protective shield in front of Tyrande as the Night Warrior stalked forward, her body glowing and humming with power. Jaina watched as Azshara laughed and fired off a spell, and Jaina was relieved to see it bounce off the barrier harmlessly.

Tyrande began speaking, her voice booming across the land, and Jaina trembled at the power in it.

“I’ve waited a _very_ long time for this!”

Azshara sent a ball of lightning that arced over Thalyssra’s shield and struck Tyrande. Jaina gasped, fearful, until she realized that Tyrande had a grin on her face and a boisterous laugh rumbling in her chest. It seemed that she was entirely unharmed, despite the fact that her skin bore burn marks from the spell. Or, perhaps, the pain did not affect her as much as it could others.

They still did not know if it was possible for them to die in the Shadowlands, and Jaina was terrified to find out. Ahead of them, Tyrande was still laughing.

“We’re in the Shadowlands, and I’m a Night Warrior,” Tyrande boomed, “do you really think you can do _anything_ to me, you _bitch_?!”

Thalyssra dropped her shield for a moment and Azshara raged, sending out another arcing ball of electricity, striking Thalyssra and making her gasp, just a little. Jaina felt quick tears come to her eyes as Thalyssra stood up straighter and brushed off the blow, even if she seemed to be in pain, her skin bearing searing marks where the electricity had struck her.

“I may not be a Night Warrior, but I still have some tricks up my sleeve!”

Thalyssra readied a bubble around herself, one that pulsed with arcane energy and looked much more resilient than anything either of them had used outside of the Shadowlands. It seemed that, perhaps, their powers were enhanced in this place, this in-between realm of Life and Death. Jaina found herself intrigued at the thought, though she could not help but think it could apply to the enemies inhabiting the Shadowlands as well.

Jaina forced herself to stay positive as she continued to watch Tyrande and Thalyssra. She was so caught up in the excitement of the battle, of how incredibly powerful Tyrande and Thalyssra were to be facing off against Azshara, that she managed to set her worries aside for the moment, so focused was she on the diversion the two women were making. She also nearly missed Sylvanas tugging at her sleeve, indicating that it was time to remove the corruption from the machine of Death.

“Go,” Arthas urged, standing next to her. “Get rid of the corruption, I’ll move in and get Daelin out.”

They exchanged somewhat tense looks, then Jaina finally nodded and cast an invisibility spell over her and Sylvanas, and they scampered off towards the machine. Jaina looked over her shoulder at the battle, finding the rest of the group holding back the forces that Azshara sent after them. They could not be killed, but they could be grouped up and controlled. Jaina watched as the rangers laid down frost and tar traps, keeping the enemies together and away from everyone.

She turned her attention back to Tyrande and Thalyssra, watching as Tyrande walked right up to Azshara and gripped her by the throat, lifting her off the ground. Daelin took several swings at her, slicing her skin and making her growl, before Arthas was able to move in and tackle him away.

Behind Azshara, Thalyssra was creating enchanted chains and freezing the naga queen as much as possible. The chains rose up as Thalyssra controlled them. Jaina realized their magic would likely not be enough to hold Azshara for long, but it should give her and Sylvanas enough time to clear the corruption and get the machine going again.

Jaina created an ice wall that boosted her and Sylvanas up and across the width of the machine as Sylvanas drew the dagger. She pressed it to the corruption, making it change color and become inert, as it had in Ny’alotha. The machine of Death, slowly but surely, began to take on the colors of azerite. Jaina boosted them up with a ladder, letting Sylvanas continue to cleanse it all. Another wall went up, allowing them passage across, and Jaina looked in awe at the machine, truly taking in its appearance for the first time.

It was massive, that much was certain, and it had many gears powering it, gears that were now beginning to move freely. Wheels started turning, and Jaina watched as some residual anima began coursing through the machine. She turned to see defense systems beginning to power up, with lesser enemies near Azshara getting swallowed up into intricate-looking traps and chains.

Sylvanas continued to cleanse the machine and Jaina kept making paths, using more icy ladders for them to climb. They ascended each ladder, and Sylvanas kept on, the hand holding the dagger moving fluidly, as if she were writing calligraphy. Jaina looked down, her eyes falling upon Azshara struggling in Tyrande’s grasp while Thalyssra fortifed the chains.

Tyrande lifted Azshara up further and Jaina could see her grip faltering just the slightest bit.

“Ready?” Thalyssra shouted to Tyrande, the chains in place and prepared to capture Azshara.

“I’ve _been_ ready!” Tyrande hissed, her eyes locked with Azshara’s.

“Do it!” Thalyssra cried. “I don’t know how long I can hold these chains!”

That seemed to be all the invitation that Tyrande needed, because she lifted Azshara up even further and roared, heaving the naga queen into the waiting chains, her back colliding with a crack against an ice wall Jaina had constructed at the foot of the machine of Death. The sounds of the ice splintering, along with Tyrande’s roar and Thalyssra’s struggling shouts, filled the air, and together, the two women fought to keep Azshara bound within the enchanted chains for as long as possible.

“_Hurry up, you two!_” Tyrande’s voice carried and echoed across the land and Jaina saw everyone look up to where she and Sylvanas were climbing once again. Their cover was now blown, but Jaina hoped it would not matter.

“_Trying,_ Lady Whisperwind!” Sylvanas shouted back. “In case you haven’t noticed, the machine of Death is a bit on the _fucking huge_ side!”

“Take your time, landwalkers!” Azshara yelled, laughing. “I’m just biding my time before I obliterate this _entire_ place! You think these chains or that worthless machine can hold me back?” Her voice was filled with what sounded like false bravado, but Jaina still feared she may be right. “You won’t have a _home_ to go back to, and you won’t even be able to stay _here_!”

Jaina felt a chill run through her and her gaze drifted to Arthas, still restraining her father. He held him as Daelin swung frantically, his blade connecting with Arthas’ armor and dealing major damage to it. She knew her father was strong, but she hoped neither Arthas nor any of the group would be forced into using harsh tactics to keep him from attempting to harm anyone. Jaina could only watch as Arthas struggled to disarm him, soaking up the hits with loud groans.

Arthas finally succeeded in wresting Daelin’s blade from him and flinging it away. Now disarmed and merely throwing punches, Daelin looked to be far less of a threat, and Jaina sighed in relief.

“If only you’d have let me live, Windrunner!” Azshara shouted, her laughter echoing in the air. “I could have _saved_ everyone!”

“_Bullshit_!” Tyrande shouted. “It doesn’t matter what anyone did or didn’t do, you’ve only ever been out for yourself, for your _own_ power!”

“You’re a _monster_,” Thalyssra said, her voice low. “Monsters have no place in our world.”

Jaina heard a sickening laugh and she looked towards the naga queen, horror in her eyes as she watched Azshara easily break free of the chains and thrust out her hands, forcefully knocking everyone back. Her appearance had changed somewhat, she looked as though she had gained some of N’Zoth’s features, her body changing color to match the defeated Old God’s dark look.

It seemed the suspicion that N’Zoth had given some of himself to Azshara when he raised her had been correct. A cry escaped Jaina’s throat as she hastily grabbed Sylvanas’ arm, directing the banshee’s gaze towards the sight below.

Azshara seemed to stand even taller and prouder than she ever had. Her arms flexed and her face was pulled into a grimace as she used a great deal of strength to bring forth...

Water.

But not just water, a massive _tidal wave_.

Jaina staggered back against the machine, the shrill laughter of Azshara echoing around her, nearly bringing her to her knees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with writing the Arthas and Jaina scene, and actually rewrote parts of it multiple times to make sure the vision I had fit with the story and also fit with how I imagine Jaina might respond to seeing him again.
> 
> BfA has been so trash and has turned off so many people from the game, that I have to imagine Blizz is going to break the “in case of emergency” glass on Arthas and bring him back in the new expac. The question is, will we be seeing LK 2.0 or a reformed Arthas? Who tf knows, I went the route that I knew I’d enjoy writing, and hopefully it translated well to everyone and presented an interesting read.
> 
> Thanks for clicking!


	20. “For As Long As Stars Do Shine”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up a bit longer, wound up adding a few things to make sure that (hopefully) everything makes sense.

The wave that rose behind Azshara had mostly obscured the vision of Jaina and Sylvanas. Jaina could only stare in shock as the wave kept growing, kept rising, and it spanned the Shadowlands as far as the eye could see. Jaina was suddenly reminded of Orgrimmar, when she had used the Focusing Iris to build a wall of water elementals that would have drowned the city, if not for Go’el and Kalec stepping in to help her see reason.

She did not know what could happen here, but it seemed she was right in thinking that the Shadowlands made them all stronger, that somehow the bridge between Life and Death granted them increased strength. It would explain why such power was needed to keep the denizens of the Shadowlands where they were.

“We have to help,” Jaina burst out, fully prepared to abandon the machine to assist the group.

“We are,” Sylvanas said firmly, gripping Jaina’s arm as she continued cleansing the corruption.

Jaina opened her mouth to reply, but Sylvanas’ stern look made her realize the banshee was right. If they left now, the machine would still be operating at a low capacity, which would make the situation worse than it already was.

She wondered if she could possibly slow the waves or freeze them. Tentatively, she closed her eyes and reached out her hands, concentrating. She opened her eyes after a moment, her heart sinking when she saw no change. She was not strong enough. With a defeated sigh, she wondered if anyone was...

Jaina watched helplessly as the first tidal wave began making its way towards the group, yelping when it neared Arthas and her father. What would happen if they got swallowed up in the wave? Or the steady flow of waves that were now building behind Azshara? Even if they could not be killed, being trapped in a wave would ensure that Azshara would have the upper hand, with everyone unable to free themselves, unable to actually try to push Azshara back.

Jaina tried to focus on the task at hand, and she turned and quickly created more ladders. She and Sylvanas kept ascending, with Sylvanas continuing to cleanse the corruption. The machine looked beautiful, now almost completely white, gold, and blue, with most of the gears spinning rapidly, processing the residual anima left inside.

Jaina looked around, seeing more contraptions springing to life, and she watched as even more lesser enemies were pushed into them by the rest of the Horde and Alliance leaders, giving them some breathing room as the waves steadily approached.

Arthas’ voice suddenly rang out and Jaina nearly jumped out of her skin. “Help me!”

Jaina’s eyes quickly darted back to Arthas and she found him trying to stand and rush away with her father from the wave before they were both swallowed by it. Kael rushed over to assist, kneeling and grasping Daelin’s arms, further restraining him as Arthas rose to his feet. Azshara spun towards the three men, firing off repeated spells that burned through Arthas’ armor and Kael’s robes and must have reached their skin, because the two men groaned and winced.

Jaina could see that Azshara had given up on only attacking Arthas and Kael and was attempting to fire spells at Daelin as well. She was unable to hit him however, as Arthas and Kael ran with Daelin safe from her view, away from the approaching waves, and towards the group. Jaina allowed herself a small smile at how Arthas—and to a lesser extent, Kael—had made certain Daelin was not only drawn away from Azshara’s clutches, but protected from her spells as well.

She had told Arthas that actions spoke louder than words, and at the moment, Arthas’ actions were speaking volumes.

Below, Azshara was casting freely, as Tyrande and Thalyssra attempted to rebuild the chains the naga queen had broken out of, all the while trying to avoid the waves that inched closer and closer. Jaina could see Kalec and Wrathion form a wall with their wings, but she realized it would likely not be enough to protect everyone should the waves hit them, especially since Azshara was creating more and more waves by the second. It seemed to be a never ending cycle. No matter what they did, the waves were expansive enough to stop any chance they had of continuing to advance on Azshara.

Jaina began to lose hope. It seemed that none of them could find a solution to Azshara’s staggering waves. She felt colder than she already did and her head was pounding, her fears threatening to consume her. She cast her gaze around, struggling to see clearly through the waves, but she could hear worried voices and her head felt like it might explode.

They had come so far, the machine was almost fully cleansed. Surely it was not all for naught, surely they would not succumb to Azshara when they were so close to victory...

Suddenly, Tyrande stopped what she was doing and held her hands out in front of her. Jaina could barely make her out through the walls of water, but it seemed as though she was concentrating incredibly hard. She then raised her hands to the sky as Thalyssra tried to pull her away from the encroaching water. Jaina could barely make out a smile on Tyrande’s lips, could barely hear her tell Thalyssra to run, before the waves swallowed her up. Standing alone, Tyrande disappeared inside of the waves.

Jaina looked around frantically, trying to see if Tyrande would emerge somewhere. The sky darkened, as if they were back home and night had fallen. Jaina swallowed when she realized there was a full moon in the sky.

“How...?”

She was baffled at the sight. It did not make sense... or did it?

Then she remembered... Elune was the Goddess of the Moon.

Tyrande was the physical embodiment of her in the Night Warrior.

The moon controlled the tides.

And right now... Tyrande controlled the moon.

The Night Warrior walked, unharmed, towards Azshara, out of the wave. She was bathed in moonlight, her entire being glowing and radiating with power. Jaina could just barely make out the words she spoke.

“Mother Moon... through your aid and guidance... anything is possible...”

She clasped her hands together and unleashed a guttural yell, forcing the tides to turn back to Azshara. The waves rushed towards the naga queen at a blinding speed, then encompassed her in a watery prison.

It was a wondrous sight and Jaina felt tears in her eyes at Tyrande’s sheer will and power. Thalyssra joined her again to help fortify the prison as Azshara tried to keep fighting, sending out as many spells as she could, even while trapped. The rest of the group pressed forward, trying to support the two women however they were able.

Jaina finally turned back and followed Sylvanas up the next ladder she crafted. She saw an even greater sense of urgency in Sylvanas as the banshee swiftly cleansed more corruption. Jaina looked up as she made another ladder. They were in the home stretch, it would not take much more time before the last of the corruption was cleansed.

She crafted more ladders and she and Sylvanas kept climbing, keeping an eye on the battle below. The watery prison seemed to be holding and the group was pushing back the last of the straggling minions.

Finally, they reached the top of the machine and Sylvanas cleared the remaining corruption. The last of the wards, traps, chains, and other devices roared to life beneath them, but Jaina could see the machine of Death running out of the very little residual anima it still contained. They needed the reserves immediately.

“It’s done,” said Sylvanas, her voice quiet. “Cover your ears and I’ll send the signal.”

Jaina did so, watching Sylvanas with wide eyes as she screwed up her face and opened her mouth wide. Even with her ears covered, Jaina could still somewhat hear the piercing wail that came from Sylvanas. It only took a moment for the anima in reserves to be released, and it came soaring to the machine.

Jaina watched with wonder as Azshara was permanently trapped against the machine, the watery prison evaporating, replaced by the defense system of the Shadowlands. Azshara’s limbs and tentacles were fastened tightly with strong, magical shackles. She was then surrounded by what Jaina recognized as extremely powerful wards, wards that would require either the machine’s shutdown or close to a miracle to break. Instantly, Azshara’s spells were stopped, even as the naga queen still attempted to cast them. Nothing happened, it seemed as though her bindings and the wards had drained her power completely.

Assuming the machine of Death did not fail once more, and assuming that anima continued to feed the machine, there would be no escape for Azshara.

Down below, the naga queen was screaming her head off, vowing revenge, vowing to escape and end everyone’s lives. Tyrande and Thalyssra moved closer to her, and Jaina watched the two women exchange smirks before winding up their arms and giving Azshara synchronized punches in the jaw, knocking her out for the time being.

Jaina saw Tyrande give Thalyssra a subtle wink and she felt a grin on her lips as she turned back to Sylvanas. “We did it,” she whispered, taking Sylvanas’ hand in hers.

Sylvanas looked utterly exhausted as she looked around at the sights below and then back up at Jaina, but she managed a smile as she said, “We absolutely did.”

They shared a brief kiss atop the machine, then Jaina raised her hands in a flourish over both of them and they stepped off, slowly falling and landing safely on the ground. Jaina raced to where the group had gathered around Daelin, and she gasped as she moved between everyone, kneeling down and regarding her father with a concerned, nervous expression.

Sylvanas moved close, kneeling as well, and swiftly pressed the dagger against the corruption on Daelin’s neck. Jaina watched as it faded away, and within moments, her father seemed to be back to himself. He stopped struggling in Arthas’ arms and sat up, Arthas pulling away, but still observing him cautiously. Kael, too, pulled away, standing and patting Arthas on the back, moving to join the leaders.

Jaina’s eyes met Arthas’ and they exchanged soft, albeit slightly tense, looks. Jaina nodded at him and he nodded back, the two of them sharing more thoughts and feelings in those actions than they ever could have in a spoken conversation. Jaina still felt decidedly uneasy, but Arthas had shown her what she wanted to see from him, and despite how she felt overall, despite how she may feel once she finally left the Shadowlands and continued her life, what she witnessed Arthas do... she would never forget.

“Tides...” Daelin murmured, reaching for Jaina’s hands as she turned to him, “it’s really you, Jaina. My dear, sweet girl...”

Jaina felt tears in her eyes as her father moved to embrace her, and she sobbed on his shoulder, flinging her arms around his neck. She felt him shake against her, relieved laughter bubbling up in his chest. They separated and Daelin reached his hands to her face, wiping the tears off her cheeks.

“Oh, Jaina, you have no idea how happy I am to see you again.” Daelin was crying a bit now as well, and Jaina sighed in relief, noticing that the leaders had all cleared out, leaving the two of them alone.

“I’m sorry,” Jaina burst out, “I’m sorry that I—“

Daelin shook his head vigorously, cradling Jaina’s face in his hands. “There’s nothing to apologize for, my dear. I couldn’t see the truth. It took what happened for me to finally see how wrong I was, to see how strong and brave and caring and considerate you are. You’ve done what I was unable to do while I was alive, but I’ve spent my time here trying to rectify everything I’ve done.”

Jaina swallowed, looking at her father through watery eyes, trying to hold herself together. Daelin gave her a warm, kind smile.

“My dear girl, I am so proud of you, of the woman you’ve become, of the woman you’ve always been. I love you.”

Jaina was sobbing again and she let her father pull her into his arms as she wept. She had not had any idea how seeing her father again would ultimately affect her, but now that she had seen him, now that he had poured his heart out to her, she felt the residual guilt she still carried finally dissipate.

She had done the right thing, her father had confirmed what it had taken her years to realize on her own. She did not need him to confirm it, but it still filled her with relief that he had. Daelin pulled back and the two stood.

“Tell me about your life,” he said brightly. “I want to know everything! At least, everything you’re comfortable telling me, of course.”

“All right,” Jaina agreed, brightening as well. As they began walking, Jaina said, “And I want to know about yours.”

“Everything, my dear. I’ll tell you everything.”

***

Some time later, Jaina and Daelin had done a full lap of the Maw, talking about their respective lives, and had finally come to a stop back at the Jailer’s tower.

“It was lovely to see you again,” Daelin said, embracing her once more, “though I imagine you won’t be making a habit of returning...”

“I wouldn’t mind coming back here,” Jaina admitted, a bit tearfully. “From what you told me, I’ve only seen a small bit of it.”

“Indeed! This place is quite massive, and also quite beautiful. The Maw is just... not very pleasant to look at.”

Jaina chuckled and wiped her eyes. “If there’s some way for me to get back one day, I’d like to see the places you mentioned and, maybe, meet the Arbiter. Oribos sounds interesting, and the Arbiter sounds just as amusing as the Jailer.”

“She absolutely is,” Daelin said, “even more so, I think.”

They both smiled and Jaina pulled him close for a last hug. When she drew back, she said, “If I don’t see you again, I just want you to know that I love you.” Her voice caught in her throat as she whispered, “For as long as stars do shine.”

Daelin smoothed his thumb over her cheek. “You’ll always be my little girl,” he whispered, “and I’ll always love you, for as long as stars do shine.”

Hearing the phrase from him again after so many years filled her with an indescribable joy and happy tears filled her eyes. “Goodbye, Father,” she said, her voice thick.

“Goodbye, Jaina.”

With one more look, Jaina began to ascend the tower, lost in thought as she walked up the steps. She was staring at her feet as she went up each stair, thinking about her father, thinking about Arthas, relieved that she had managed to find a level of closure with both, able to fully clear her conscience.

She felt good, she felt happy. She smiled to herself, closing her eyes briefly and gasping and grabbing the railing when she bumped into something—someone, in fact—in front of her. She opened her eyes, coming face to face with Kael.

“Pardon, Lady Proudmoore,” he said somewhat awkwardly, giving her a quick bow.

She nodded in response, her eyes softening, then continued past him up the stairs, opting not to speak to him further. She appreciated his assistance with her father, in how he had joined Arthas to ensure Daelin’s safety, but she was not interested in acknowledging that fact with anything more than a polite nod. She paused, however, when he called to her, and she turned around to face him.

“I... wish you all the happiness in the world.” His voice was thick with emotion and Jaina felt moved, just a little. “From seeing you with Sylvanas, it seems you’ve already found a great deal of it.” He gave her a kind look, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly.

Jaina nodded again and simply whispered, “Thank you.”

With a last look at him, she turned and walked up the rest of the steps, emerging onto the balcony and glancing around at everyone as they spoke spiritedly. She hung back, leaning against the tower wall, content to watch everyone revel in their hard-fought victory.

She spotted Sylvanas at the far end of the balcony and she swallowed hard upon realizing the banshee was speaking with Arthas. Sylvanas’ body language and facial expression told Jaina she was merely tolerating him for the moment and Jaina walked over to assist, slipping her hand into Sylvanas’.

“Everything in order here, I hope?” she asked, repeating Sylvanas’ words from earlier as she looked between the two of them. She nearly melted when Sylvanas pressed a kiss to her hair.

“Everything’s fine.”

Jaina brought Sylvanas’ hand to her chest, holding it tightly over where her heart would be beating again soon, a soft smile on her lips. “I think I’m about ready to go home.”

“You and me both,” Sylvanas said with a smile.

She nuzzled Jaina’s cheek and Jaina closed her eyes, enjoying the moment. When she opened them, Arthas was nowhere to be found. She instinctively drew in a deep breath that she did not need, then leaned against Sylvanas.

There were still scattered, animated conversations, and Jaina grinned when Vereesa walked over and enveloped her in a fierce hug.

“It’s all over,” Jaina murmured, “and I get to see you and the boys soon.”

“Yes, you do,” Vereesa chuckled, “and I’m rather excited for it.”

“Me too,” Jaina said, as they separated.

Vereesa turned to Sylvanas, her smile widening. “You’re coming, too,” she said firmly, “and I’ll get Alleria and Arator, and we’ll make a day of it.”

Jaina watched as Sylvanas brightened and Vereesa’s face lit up even further. “I’d like that very much, Little Moon.” Her voice carried a great deal of emotion and Jaina smiled as Sylvanas drew her little sister into a strong embrace. Vereesa drew back first, giving Jaina and Sylvanas a grin, then wandered off in the direction of Alleria.

Jaina and Sylvanas exchanged sweet looks, and Jaina stumbled back, caught off-guard, when Thalyssra threw herself into her arms. She grinned and laughed, holding Thalyssra tight.

“You and Tyrande made quite the team,” Jaina said excitedly. “Your distractions were perfect.”

“Why, thank you,” Thalyssra said when she pulled back, giving Jaina a silly, exaggerated bow. Jaina grinned and Thalyssra continued, “We may have provided the distraction, but you two put in some work.”

“It was all Sylvanas,” Jaina chuckled, turning to the banshee. “I just made some walls and ladders.”

“_Very_ helpful walls and ladders,” Sylvanas insisted, elbowing her gently in the ribs.

They shared sweet looks and warm smiles and Thalyssra said gently, “You two also make quite the team. And... quite the pair.” She beamed at both of them.

“Thank you,” Jaina said sincerely. “You’re the best friend anyone could ask for.”

There were tears in Thalyssra’s eyes as she nodded and pulled Jaina into another hug. “Back at you.”

Jaina drew back and Thalyssra left her and Sylvanas alone, walking away in the direction of Nathanos. Jaina leaned against Sylvanas again, sighing at the way the banshee kissed her hair and stroked her back. She dropped her hand to a pouch on her belt and froze. Sylvanas noticed, stiffening against her. With trembling fingers, Jaina pulled out the pendant that Azshara had given her.

“How could I forget this?” she murmured, her voice hushed. “We need to figure this out before we go back.”

“Hmm,” Sylvanas murmured, “how about we ask the woman herself?”

“She won’t tell us,” Jaina said, shaking her head.

Sylvanas huffed a laugh. “She’s stuck here forever, assuming the machine doesn’t break down again. She has no reason _not_ to tell us.”

“You may be right,” Jaina said, “and it certainly wouldn’t hurt to try.”

Sylvanas offered Jaina her arm and Jaina took it, glancing about at their allies as they continued to celebrate their victory with excited conversations. The Jailer was all smiles, telling the group about the inner workings of the Shadowlands and about the other areas they had not yet visited.

She was looking forward to having the opportunity to return one day, under hopefully better circumstances. She sighed and looked at Derek and then at the pendant in her hand, gripping it tightly. Sylvanas began to lead her away, the two of them descending the tower’s steps and eventually emerging outside.

Jaina looked off into the distance, just barely making out the complex prison in which Azshara was currently held. There were wards all around and Azshara could barely move. It was a fitting punishment for all she had done in her life. With a heavy sigh, Jaina began walking in the naga queen’s direction, Sylvanas by her side.

They reached the still unconscious Azshara after a few minutes and Jaina stared at the woman, tilting her head and resting her hands on her hips. She clicked her tongue and then her fingers, bringing about a heavy, localized rainstorm just above Azshara’s head. The naga queen sputtered and coughed, shaking her head vigorously and flinging water everywhere as she abruptly awoke.

Jaina snapped her fingers again, and the rain was gone. Azshara growled her displeasure and pulled at her restraints, but did not speak. Jaina held up the pendant, instantly noting the smug expression on Azshara’s face that the woman did not even attempt to hide.

“Before we leave, I need to know how to rid Derek of his conditioning.”

Azshara spat rainwater at Jaina, staring daggers at her. “Your _lover_ killed me, which means I’m not helping you.” She cocked her head to the side and fixed Jaina with a nasty look. “Or did you forget that _tiny_ little detail?”

Sylvanas drew the dagger from her belt and Jaina wiped her face with her sleeve as she watched Azshara’s expression quickly change to one of apprehension. “No one forgot, but perhaps it would serve you well to remember that you’re trapped here for all eternity,” purred Sylvanas. “You may eventually be judged by the Arbiter as being worthy of being reformed to fit the Jailer’s needs. Or, you may be found to be only a monster, set to remain in these bindings forever. Either way, your stay here can be made pleasant... or miserable.”

Sylvanas flipped the dagger with deft fingers, Azshara’s eyes following the gleaming blade as it moved. Jaina watched the wheels turn in Azshara’s head as the wheels of the machine of Death turned behind the naga queen, pumping out pure energy to the Shadowlands and its devices.

“You wouldn’t _dare_,” Azshara whispered hoarsely. “The Jailer is a reasonable man, you know as well as I that he would _never_ allow this.”

“Or, perhaps, given that I’ve made him aware of our history, he’s already made an exception.”

Azshara swallowed and Jaina looked between the naga queen and Sylvanas, wondering when the Jailer had given Sylvanas such permission. She realized it must have been when she and her father were wandering the area, catching up on everything that had happened over the years. With all the strife they had endured, Sylvanas especially, Jaina thought it made sense that the Jailer would grant Sylvanas such a kind courtesy.

Broken out of her thoughts, Jaina snapped her gaze to Azshara when the woman heaved a resigned, frustrated sigh and nodded wearily towards the pendant.

“Break it,” she said through gritted teeth. “Break it and the spell will be broken. Your _weakling_ of a brother will have his pitiful mind back.”

Not entirely convinced, Jaina looked at her and warned coldly, “If you’re lying about this...”

“Oh, _Proudmoore_,” Azshara muttered, “I’m _stuck_ here. What good would it do me to lie if your woman is threatening to torture me like I did her?” She huffed and shook her head. “Bust it, crack it, crush it!” She sniffed and nodded at the pendant again. “_Destroy it_ and get out of my sight. Leave me to my suffering.”

Jaina and Sylvanas exchanged looks and Sylvanas gave her a slight nod. Jaina set the pendant on the ground and together, she and Sylvanas stomped on it, splitting it into tiny pieces. Nothing seemed to happen to indicate that breaking it had done anything and Jaina fixed Azshara with an expectant look.

“He’ll know,” Azshara said, before Jaina could speak. “He’ll feel that it’s gone.”

Jaina just nodded warily and turned to Sylvanas. “Let’s go home.”

***

A short while later, everyone stood with the Jailer, still chatting about the places they had not yet explored, and murmuring about the possibility of coming back and seeing the Shadowlands in all its anima-infused glory.

“There is a way,” the Jailer shared, and he gestured towards the closed doors of the tower. “The Arbiter took the time to judge you as you worked. She has deemed you all worthy in life, as well as in your present—temporary—undeath.”

The doors opened and a woman stepped through them. Her face was obscured by a golden mask and the long pastel blue robes she wore had gold tassels and accents all over. She looked incredibly regal and Jaina nearly felt the urge to kneel in the woman’s presence.

“Greetings.”

Everyone briefly bowed towards her, including the Jailer, who then stood up straight and extended a hand. The Arbiter took it and the Jailer spun her around, her robes swirling with her, as she chuckled beneath her mask.

“It’s always a pleasure to see you,” the Jailer said kindly, a wide smile on his lips.

“And you,” the Arbiter said, as she took a place beside him and began to address the group. When she spoke, she did so in a soft, silky voice that was warm and comforting. “Now, I imagine you’re all rather eager to get home, and I imagine, too, that my dear friend here has talked your ears off plenty, so I’ll cut to the chase.”

The Jailer roared with laughter as the Arbiter playfully hit his arm and laughed as well. Jaina felt a smile tug at her lips when she saw her friends and allies looking amused at the display. Her father was right, it seemed, the Arbiter was definitely quite the character. Tears crept into the corners of her eyes as she thought about her father, and she realized that she wanted to see him again sooner rather than later. She looked towards the Arbiter, her ears perking up when the woman spoke again.

“I’m going to cast a portal that only those whom I’ve personally judged and deemed worthy can use to return here. Anyone else who tries to use it will be smote out of existence.”

Jaina’s jaw dropped and her eyes went wide at the Arbiter’s words. Around her, gasps of shock filled her ears.

The Arbiter laughed deeply, one hand over her chest. “I’m kidding, of course...” She leaned forward and added, “Or am I?”

Jaina gulped, suddenly nervous that she could not see the Arbiter’s face. She steadied herself and chose to believe that the Arbiter just had a rather wicked sense of humor.

“In any case, the portal will go between here and the Frozen Throne, so feel free to use it any time you like. We do enjoy visitors, you know...” Jaina imagined the woman quirked an amused eyebrow at them and she smiled at the thought.

The Arbiter raised her hands and began conjuring a portal that swirled with anima and opened with a rather loud boom. Jaina winced at the sound, then calmed when Sylvanas stepped next to her, resting a soothing hand on her back. Jaina leaned on her shoulder as she watched the Arbiter gesture for everyone to pass through.

Soon, the two of them, the Jailer, and the Arbiter were the only ones left. The Jailer fixed Jaina with a gentle look. “Ready to go home?”

Jaina nodded. She was, she truly was, but being in the Shadowlands had been quite the adventure and she was absolutely looking forward to seeing her father again. Her stomach dropped a bit when she realized there was a fair chance she would see Arthas again as well, but she swallowed her unease and tried to think positive. His actions had, indeed, spoken rather loudly and boldly, but Jaina was not in any rush to see him again.

“I am, and I won’t forget anything that happened here,” she said quietly.

“I do hope the experience had some positive moments for you,” the Jailer said, leaning towards her a bit and raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

“It did,” Jaina replied, a warm look on her face. “Seeing my father again, and seeing how much he’s changed, was a dream come true.” She smiled softly. “Being here, seeing all that I saw, was quite the awakening.” She paused, reflecting, then continued, “Despite the circumstances that led us here, I’m grateful we had the opportunity to come.”

The Jailer and the Arbiter looked at one another, a content smile on the Jailer’s lips. Jaina believed the Arbiter had to be smiling as well, and she felt her own deepen. Sylvanas hummed quietly, nuzzling her hair and kissing the shell of her ear.

“That being said, I am looking forward to breathing and feeling my heartbeat again,” she said with a sheepish chuckle.

The Jailer and Arbiter both made grand gestures towards the portal and Jaina grabbed Sylvanas’ hand, moving towards it and stepping through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that brings us to the conclusion of the Shadowlands chapters. We have two more chapters to go to wrap everything up and if you’re looking for some more Sylvaina in the vein of chapter 13, I’ll just say that it’s on its way...
> 
> Anyway, I hope my vision of the Shadowlands and the characters encountered therein were enjoyable to read. I had a lot of fun writing everyone and I’d like to return to this fic’s universe in future one-shots and maybe meet some more of the Shadowlands’ denizens. We’ll see!
> 
> Thanks for clicking, I hope to have the editing done on the next chapter soon.


	21. “I Can Respect... Love... When I See It”

Jaina and Sylvanas landed back at the Frozen Throne, near the group. Jaina drew in a careful breath, filling up her lungs, then let it out slowly. It was cold enough that she could see her breath in the air and she shivered at the chill. She felt her heart thumping rhythmically, soothingly, in her chest and she could barely suppress the soft, relieved smile that tugged at her lips. She slipped her hand into Sylvanas’.

She had never been more grateful to be alive.

She looked towards Bolvar, standing near the steps. He was looking sullenly at the broken halves of the Helm of Domination as they sat upon the bottommost stair. She jumped when she heard the sound of someone emerging through the portal behind her. She turned and saw the Arbiter come through and she raised her eyebrows in surprise. After a moment, the Arbiter’s warm lilting voice thawed the frigid air.

“The machine of Death is working properly again, it has plenty of anima, and the Shadowlands and Azeroth are safe, relatively speaking.” She sighed and turned towards Bolvar. “It would seem there’s just one small detail to take care of, before everything can truly return to normal...”

She walked gracefully over to Bolvar and the Helm, her robes flowing wondrously behind her. She laid a hand on Bolvar’s shoulder, then moved it to his face and gently cupped his cheek before dropping it to her side. She knelt and picked up both halves of the Helm, seemingly inspecting them for a few long seconds, then pressed them together. Jaina and everyone else quickly averted their eyes as the halves were fused together, a bright light erupting from the Helm once it was repaired.

Jaina looked back, her eyes widening as the Arbiter simply shrugged and tossed the fixed Helm to Bolvar, who caught it with unsteady hands.

“There you go,” the Arbiter said sweetly, “all better.” She turned and walked back towards the portal and addressed the slack-jawed group. “Be good,” she said. “Toodles!” With that, she disappeared back through the portal.

Lor’themar fixed everyone with a lopsided smile. “Well, that takes care of _that_...”

“Tides...” Jaina muttered, shaking her head. She was having difficulty believing that anything that had happened between their journey to the Shadowlands and back had been real, though she knew all of it was. It felt like an incredibly surreal dream, but it had absolutely been quite the adventure. She would have pondered it more had Tyrande not interrupted her thoughts with a loud clap of her hands.

“Time for us to have an audience with Helya, banshee,” she said. “The machine is repaired, it has enough anima to last for quite some time, and it will receive more day after day. It’s time for the people of Teldrassil to pass on.”

“As you say,” Sylvanas said with a nod. She turned to Jaina, who was already casting a portal to Stormheim that would put them just outside of Helheim. Jaina glanced around, seeing the other leaders looking nervous, but clearly interested in how the situation would play out. She turned to Thalyssra, who was standing nearby.

“Shall we?” Jaina asked, offering her arm and a wide smile.

“We shall,” the elder mage responded with a grin, and the two stepped through first.

Once everyone had made it through the portal, Sylvanas led the way into Helheim itself, with the rest of the leaders following. They made their way to Helya, passing by the lost souls as they reached her.

“My, my, this is quite the group you’ve gathered, Lady Windrunner.” She turned her attention to Jaina, saying, “I assume this means you were successful in the Shadowlands, and you’ve all come to regale me with the tale of your triumph, so that I may send these souls to their proper resting place?”

“Yes,” said Jaina, “the machine of Death is operating at full capacity once again.”

“That is excellent news, indeed,” said Helya, a satisfied grin spreading over her features. “Well, I suppose that means I’ll be light on souls for a while, but I’m sure I’ll make do...”

Jaina shifted uneasily at Helya’s words, but she knew the woman was in the business of collecting the dead, and as long as Helya would keep her word, they had nothing to worry about.

Helya sighed a little, her smile fading just the slightest bit. She raised her hands for a moment and the souls began to glow, as if they were suffused with the Light itself. Jaina realized with a jolt that they likely were. She had no idea how Helya was managing such a feat, but she would not question it. The woman was full of mystery, and Jaina felt that perhaps that was entirely acceptable. Everyone watched as the souls slowly ascended upwards, until they could no longer be seen, then turned to Helya, who merely nodded towards the way they had entered.

“Off you go, then,” she said, waving a hand at them.

Tyrande stepped forward and Jaina could just barely make out the tears in her eyes as she bowed deeply towards Helya and the ruler of Helheim returned it. No words were exchanged between the two, and Jaina understood that none needed to be.

Tyrande turned around and gave Thalyssra a quick nod. “To the Chamber of Heart.”

Thalyssra cast a portal and Tyrande went through first, with the others slowly following, until Jaina, Sylvanas, and Thalyssra remained, hesitating near the portal.

“What’s this about, do you think?” Thalyssra asked.

“It’s likely about my sentencing,” Sylvanas huffed. “It doesn’t surprise me that she would get down to business without a chance to rest and reflect.”

Jaina growled and shook her head in disbelief. Resigned, she said, “If this is what she wants, then I guess we should get it over with.”

The three women shared looks and stepped through, arriving in the back of the room inside the Chamber of Heart. Tyrande glanced briefly at them, then back to everyone else, beginning to make a speech. Jaina noticed that Tyrande appeared softer, that her eyes seemed gentle, that there was almost what could pass for a smile on her lips...

What was she planning?

“Against all odds, we’ve managed to come together, Alliance and Horde alike, to save this world. We’ve restored the balance between Life and Death by ensuring that Death can reliably function once more, forever keeping the prisoners of the Shadowlands where they belong.

“I doubt I’m alone in saying that I’ve grown very weary from all of the fighting, physical and verbal, that we’ve done over the years and I would like to offer an alternative, if I may be so bold.”

Jaina swallowed her shock at how reasonable Tyrande was being so far. Could she truly have a plan for peace that would finally end the perpetual battle between the Alliance and Horde? It seemed too good to be true, but it was what Jaina wanted, what others wanted, and if Tyrande of all people could provide it, the future of Azeroth would surely be bright.

“I think the time has long since passed for either faction to have a warchief or a king. If we’re to have a real peace, then perhaps we should change how we run things.

“I propose councils for both sides, where all leaders will decide together what happens and how we’ll deal with future issues and threats to the world.” She chuckled and added, “So that I’m not being hypocritical here, what say you all to this proposal? Is it time to abolish one ruler for each faction? Is it time to come together on equal footing and let everyone have a say?”

Jaina’s eyes unexpectedly filled with tears and she felt Thalyssra’s arm link with hers as Sylvanas walked forward to stand near Tyrande. Jaina exchanged a look with Thalyssra, finding her smiling and excited, and Jaina felt herself caught up in it, smiling as well. She looked around, seeing smiles and watery eyes on nearly everyone, and cheers began to erupt from the crowd. She joined in, feeling happy and light.

Tyrande had used her considerable physical prowess for good in the Shadowlands and was now using her considerable mental prowess for good back on Azeroth. The Jailer had shared his concerns about Tyrande and Jaina had been worried as well, but it was clear they were in good hands. Jaina had even said it herself: Tyrande was an ally.

Perhaps, everything would work out just fine.

Sylvanas stood next to Tyrande, slowly extending her hand. Tyrande extended her own, serious—though not unkind—looks on both of their faces as they clasped hands.

“Well, it would seem everyone is amenable,” Tyrande said with a smug grin. “Good. Let’s take some time for family and friends, and then we can speak about how, exactly, we’re going to put this plan into action.”

Jaina’s mood soared and she pulled Sylvanas into an embrace when the banshee walked back over to her. All around, there were shouts of joy and cheers of excitement, and she closed her eyes against more happy tears as she held the woman she loved.

“There is, however, one more _little_ matter that needs to be settled before we can officially do this...”

Tyrande’s smooth voice all but silenced the room and Jaina felt her stomach drop when she realized the Night Warrior’s eyes were fixed on her and Sylvanas.

“As I said before we ventured to the Shadowlands, there still needs to be a punishment, regardless of how certain actions were committed. And, as I also said before, there would be a lighter sentence if the souls were able to find the peace they deserved. With that in mind, I will hand down that sentence tomorrow morning, Lady Windrunner.”

Jaina pursed her lips as she and Sylvanas separated and she grasped the banshee’s hand.

“That’s fair, Lady Whisperwind,” Sylvanas said respectfully, giving her a nod. “Where shall we meet?”

“The Stormwind throne room, soon to be the Stormwind council room, once all arrangements are made,” said Tyrande, folding her arms over her chest. She turned to Jaina and Thalyssra. “Lady Proudmoore, First Arcanist, I’d like to think I’m not an unreasonable woman. As such, I’m going to overlook your involvement in the coverup of Lady Windrunner’s escape, as well as the lies you told to protect a relationship with a potential war criminal.”

Jaina shivered and Thalyssra soothed her, running a hand along her arm.

Tyrande met Jaina’s gaze as she said, “I... may not understand what you see in her, but I believe that you wanted to find the truth, and I believe I can... _mostly_... accept that N’Zoth and Azshara were responsible for the unspeakable events that took place.”

She frowned and shook her head, and Jaina realized that it seemed to be almost hurting her to get out what she was saying, that most likely, she would always harbor some suspicion about Sylvanas. It was something they would probably just have to accept, even if it was unfair. Tyrande had been through hell (and, in the case of the Shadowlands, purgatory) and she had survived the loss of many of her people. Jaina sympathized, suddenly feeling a surge of understanding for the Night Warrior’s plight and how she felt.

“I may not understand it, but I can respect conviction and fondness...” Tyrande paused and finished with a quiet sigh, “I can respect... _love_... when I see it.”

Jaina felt a faint smile cross her lips as Sylvanas squeezed her hand. “Thank you,” Jaina said, her voice faltering just a little.

Tyrande inclined her head towards them, choosing not to speak further. Instead, she gestured at everyone with her hands, indicating for them to leave and go home. She linked her arm with her husband’s and together, they used their hearthstones and vanished from sight.

The mood in the room seemed a touch lighter with their departure, and the leaders gathered around, animatedly discussing what had taken place. Jaina was content to listen, not feeling up to joining in with the chatter. Instead, she leaned against Sylvanas, listening to her talk about the Forsaken and their future within the Horde. She realized with a start that she had never told Sylvanas about what Calia and Derek had shared with her, about having spoken with Lilian Voss and their idea to lead the Forsaken in Sylvanas’ stead. She had not believed it necessary, she had believed that things would return to how they were after everything had been settled with N’Zoth and then the Shadowlands.

But now, with Tyrande’s proposal, the Forsaken would need more of a representative than Sylvanas. She listened as Calia and Derek shared their wish to assist the Forsaken and lead them to a brighter future. She looked up at Sylvanas, relief flowing through her when she saw that the banshee was nodding along in agreement and offering her own ideas to supplement theirs.

The three were smiling softly as they spoke and Jaina smiled too, happy that things were working out. She rested her cheek against Sylvanas’ shoulder, settling in to enjoy the spirited talks.

***

Some time later, everyone had begun to say their farewells before heading to their respective homes. Soon, only a few were left. Jaina went to Go’el and Anduin while Sylvanas took Nathanos aside. Thalyssra chatted with Lor’themar, and Alleria and Vereesa spoke with each other while glancing every so often at Sylvanas, clearly waiting to be able to talk to her.

The conversations ended with hugs and smiles, and more farewells were said. Jaina took Thalyssra aside as Sylvanas, a bit cautiously, went to speak with her sisters. Jaina smiled at the sight, then turned to Thalyssra.

“This journey has been... kind of unbelievable,” she said with a sheepish look.

Thalyssra quirked an eyebrow at her, grasping her hands. “It truly has.”

“I’ve loved all of it, but I particularly loved getting to know you better,” Jaina said sincerely, tears in her eyes.

Thalyssra gave her a wide smile. “I feel the same way. I don’t think I could have predicted anything close to this outcome when we first headed off to the Dalaran library weeks ago.” She paused and looked a bit shyly into Jaina’s eyes as she whispered, “I couldn’t be happier to call you my friend, Jaina.”

Tears slipped down Jaina’s cheeks and then down Thalyssra’s, as Jaina pulled her friend into a powerful hug, holding her tight. Their moment was interrupted by the sound of boisterous laughter and they both turned to see all three Windrunner sisters cracking up and holding onto each other.

Curious and amused, Jaina and Thalyssra exchanged surprised looks, then made their way over to the sisters.

“You three are _loud_,” Thalyssra declared, chuckling.

“What was so funny?” Jaina asked with a smile, linking her arm with Sylvanas’.

“I was telling them about the few days you and I spent in the woods, and the tale I told you about my first hunt,” said Sylvanas, her voice proud.

“Yeah,” said Alleria, poking her playfully in the chest, “you _finally_ got to be useful...”

“And I missed it all...” Vereesa pouted, her ears drooping.

Jaina wrapped her free arm around Vereesa and pulled her close. “You were still there,” she said sweetly, “you were just... a cute little baby.”

Vereesa brightened and turned to Sylvanas, her ears perking up. “You mentioned me?”

Sylvanas nodded and shared, “I talked about you both a fair bit, in fact.” Softly, she murmured, “Of course I would mention you.”

There was a thick silence in the air for a moment and Jaina looked at the three sisters, taking in the obvious love they still had for each other, a love that existed in spite of all that had happened over the years. It was beautiful and sincere and Jaina began to feel emotional again, biting her lip to keep from crying when Sylvanas pulled Alleria close and they all shared a group hug.

“Mind if I squeeze in?” Thalyssra asked, and Jaina moved back from Sylvanas to pull her friend in as everyone embraced once more.

“This wouldn’t have been possible without either of you,” Sylvanas said, nodding to Thalyssra and Jaina. “You investigated and saw that something was wrong, then you got my sisters to help, and you all believed in me enough to save me.” She swallowed thickly. “I don’t have the words to express what that means to me.”

“Seems hard to believe,” huffed Alleria, “usually, we can’t shut you up...”

Sylvanas just shook her head as Alleria smirked. The five women held each other close, laughing and joking, and Jaina let out a soft, elated sigh, looking around at everyone and smiling.

***

After a short while, Alleria and Vereesa finally took off, talking spiritedly about meeting up with Jaina and Sylvanas at a later date. Thalyssra left as well, after she and Jaina vowed to spend more time together, time that would be spent doing activities other than research. Before the three women left, they made certain to wish Sylvanas luck at her sentencing, promising to attend and to be there every step of the way, regardless of what happened. Jaina was grateful, feeling entirely happy and lucky that she and Sylvanas were surrounded by such an extraordinary amount of love.

“Ready to head back to Suramar?” Sylvanas finally asked, taking Jaina’s hand in hers.

“Mm, not quite yet...” Jaina grinned as Sylvanas raised her obnoxiously tall eyebrows. “There’s one quick stop I want to make first...”

She cast a portal to Proudmoore Keep and squeezed Sylvanas’ hand as they stepped through. It was dark, but the sky was full of brightly twinkling stars. They emerged near the docks where Katherine was overseeing the unloading of cargo from a large boat. She turned around almost immediately at the sound of the portal and all but sprinted over to Jaina, wrapping her daughter in her arms.

“Oh sweetheart, you’re back!” She hugged Jaina tighter and Jaina closed her eyes, a happy sigh on her lips. “I missed you, are you all right?”

“I’m just fine,” Jaina said, pulling back and gesturing to Sylvanas. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

Sylvanas looked nervous and Jaina squeezed her hand as the banshee audibly gulped and gave Katherine a quick bow.

“Jaina’s told me so much about you already,” Katherine said kindly, “but I’d like to learn more, if that’s all right.”

Sylvanas softened and Jaina beamed at her. “O-of course,” she said, slightly stumbling over her words and making Jaina hide an amused grin, “anything.”

Katherine laid a gentle hand on Sylvanas’ shoulder. “This calls for a cup of tea.” She started to walk towards the Keep and called back, “Come on, you two!”

Sylvanas gave Jaina a look and Jaina grinned sheepishly, her cheeks warm. “I can’t _believe_ you would spring this sort of meeting on me with no warning...” Jaina frowned sadly, feeling chastised, until Sylvanas broke into a smile, giving her a playful nudge. “You’re lucky you’re good company, Proudmoore.”

Jaina brightened and kissed Sylvanas’ cheek as the two made their way into the Keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been written for a while, but I was slacking on editing and posting it because I got distracted writing some Jaina/Vereesa angsty fluff. >.>
> 
> So, there’s one more chapter after this one, unless I expand part of it into another. We’re winding down and wrapping up some loose ends, in any case. I’ll try to get the last chapter edited and ready soon.


	22. ”Whatever Happens Today, I’ll Be With You”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate title: “We’re Getting a Happy Ending 2: Electric Boogaloo”

Later, after Jaina and Sylvanas bid farewell to Katherine, Jaina cast a portal to Suramar. They emerged through the portal into the cozy cabin, and Jaina pointed a finger at the fireplace, sparking a blaze. Sylvanas began speaking about what awaited her with her sentencing almost immediately. She stopped a few feet ahead of Jaina, gesturing with her hands, her tone thoughtful.

“Tyrande will send me to the Stockades for certain. It doesn’t matter what we’ve said, or what we’ve done, definitely not what _I’ve_ done...”

She chuckled and Jaina frowned slightly. As Sylvanas spoke, still facing away from her, Jaina slowly began undressing, a quivering breath on her lips. She slipped off her cloak and boots, then her corset and leggings, and finally her undergarments, tossing everything unceremoniously into a pile on the floor.

“Even if she said she would give me a lighter sentence, it’s still going to be a few years,” Sylvanas was saying, “and that’s being generous. It’s actually far more likely she’ll sentence me to a decade or more, but we’ll see...”

“Sylvanas...” Jaina’s voice was low and soft, and her body felt warm all over. She brushed her fingers over her neck, a light smile on her lips when she felt her pulse, the pulse that had been scarily absent in the Shadowlands, begin to quicken.

“A few years wouldn’t be too terrible, I suppose, given the alternative—“

“Sylvanas...”

“You’ll be able to come see me, of course, and I imagine there’s a chance I could be released early, if Tyrande believes I’ve shown enough remorse for acts that were beyond my control—“

“_Windrunner_.”

Sylvanas finally turned around and Jaina felt herself flush under Sylvanas’ roaming gaze and the growing smile on her lips.

“Well, _that_ got your attention,” Jaina said, mirroring what Sylvanas had said to her a few weeks before in Proudmoore Keep. “I think I’ll file that tidbit away for safekeeping...”

Sylvanas was still staring at her, seemingly unable to speak, and Jaina smiled smugly, walking over and locking eyes with her. She tugged down Sylvanas’ hood, letting silvery blonde hair loose, the banshee’s ears swiveling forward and then comfortably laying back. Jaina whipped off Sylvanas’ cloak, tossing it onto the pile she had already made with her own clothes. She continued undressing Sylvanas, her eyes never leaving the banshee’s.

“I don’t want to talk,” she whispered, pulling off one of Sylvanas’ pauldrons. Her voice wavered slightly with the emotion in it, and she fought to keep it steady. “I’m alive again, after getting out of that place. I faced ghosts in there, we both did, and I’m relieved to be out. I want to _celebrate_ being out.

“I don’t want to think about tomorrow, I don’t want to think about what Tyrande may or may not do, because it doesn’t matter. We’re in this together and whatever lies ahead, we’ll make it through. We’re getting a happy ending, Sylvanas, I _promise_ you.”

With that, Jaina finished removing Sylvanas’ armor and boots, leaving her clad in undergarments. She draped her arms around Sylvanas’ neck, fingers sliding into soft locks, bringing the banshee close for a kiss. She leaned against Sylvanas, melting when cool hands found her hips and slowly slid up, the chilled heels of those hands pressing pleasantly against the sides of her breasts.

They kissed until Jaina drew back to relish once again being able to take a deep breath. The two pressed their foreheads together, Jaina feeling impossibly hot, yearning for Sylvanas’ touch. The banshee was gazing at her with half-lidded eyes and Jaina moved a hand to her cheek, sighing softly as Sylvanas dropped a kiss on her palm.

“I...” Sylvanas swallowed and Jaina smirked at the rather adorably puzzled look on her face as she continued, “I... suddenly don’t remember what I was saying...”

“Mm, I think you were about to tell me how beautiful I am,” Jaina teased in a low voice, stroking the back of Sylvanas’ neck. She trembled at the way Sylvanas closed her eyes and moaned softly at the touch of her hand.

“Is that right?” Sylvanas teased back, hands sliding down to grip Jaina’s ass possessively. The way Sylvanas touched her reminded her of how she had touched her in the Shadowlands, in front of Arthas.

She _loved_ it.

She gasped, her face and neck flushing, as she further pressed against Sylvanas. She moaned when the banshee moved a hand upwards to squeeze one of her breasts and tug at a puckered nipple.

“Mhm,” Jaina rasped, finding her voice as she pulled off the last of Sylvanas’ underclothes, “and I was about to tell you the same.” She moved her hands down, running them over Sylvanas’ stomach muscles, biting her lip at the way they flexed under her fingers.

Sylvanas moved her hands to Jaina’s ass again, lifting her up as Jaina wrapped her legs around Sylvanas’ waist, her hands drawing the banshee close for an intense kiss. Sylvanas pushed her against the wall and Jaina leaned her head to the side, deep, satisfied moans escaping her when she felt the soft caress of cool breath and a roving tongue on her neck.

She heard the distinct sound of a smug chuckle come from Sylvanas and she felt even more flushed and excited, her hands tousling Sylvanas’ hair, fingertips just grazing sensitive ears. Sylvanas moaned against her neck, dropping chilled kisses on warm skin. Jaina felt just a hint of fang along her throat, little exploratory nips at her pulse point, and she responded by sweetly caressing Sylvanas’ face, whispering her encouragement.

She closed her eyes, sighing softly, thoroughly enjoying how the banshee made her shiver with want from some of the most tender kisses and touches she had ever received. Before long, she began to feel a throbbing ache between her legs and she rolled her hips forward in a silent plea, a yearning whimper on her lips.

Jaina opened her eyes to find Sylvanas fixing her with a gentle, understanding look, and Jaina gasped and clenched a fist when Sylvanas shifted to support her against the wall, dropping a hand between them. Jaina tightened her legs around Sylvanas’ waist as the banshee used one chilled finger to slide between slick folds and stroke her from entrance to clit, over and over again.

Panting, Jaina relaxed her hand and pulled Sylvanas into a heated kiss, moaning into her mouth when Sylvanas began circling her clit languidly, teasingly, with that same finger. The action began to soothe her ache, just a little, and she bit her lip when two fingers slipped inside, still slow, still teasing. Sylvanas’ thumb brushed her clit and mercifully began rubbing it in steady circles.

Jaina closed her eyes again, gently tugging Sylvanas towards her neck, breathing shakily when the banshee grazed her skin once more with her fangs. The rush of excitement that Jaina felt sent shockwaves to her center and she whispered Sylvanas’ name as she rocked against the banshee’s hand. Sylvanas sped up only slightly, and Jaina began to feel the muscles in her back and thighs burn from their position.

She let out a quiet groan of discomfort and Sylvanas just chuckled. Without a word, Sylvanas pulled her hand away, bringing it to her mouth to lick her fingers as Jaina, slightly breathless, uttered a quiet whine at the loss. Sylvanas then slipped that hand under Jaina’s ass, nails digging pleasantly into soft skin, making her squeal as Sylvanas moved them to the bedroom.

“Figured your back was getting sore,” Sylvanas whispered, as she carefully set Jaina down on the bed, climbing on top of her.

Her cheeks warm, Jaina admitted, “Just a bit.”

Smugly, Sylvanas murmured into her ear, “We’ll try again when we haven’t spent hours on our feet in the Shadowlands...”

Unable to suppress the excited grin and delighted shiver she felt, Jaina murmured back, “Believe me, I’m looking forward to it.”

They shared a kiss as Sylvanas settled in on top of Jaina, running soothingly cool hands all over her heated skin. Eager lips found her neck again, followed by nipping fangs, and Jaina tightened her legs around Sylvanas’ waist, a quivering breath on her lips. She pitched her hips upward, grinding against Sylvanas, trying to create some friction to ease the ache that had once more settled between her thighs.

Jaina kept her hands near Sylvanas’ face, kissing her again as the banshee continued touching her, making her relax completely on the bed. She finally let her legs lie on the mattress, unwrapping them from around Sylvanas’ waist. Sylvanas sat up on her knees, bringing Jaina with her, combing out Jaina’s braid with her fingers. Jaina closed her eyes at Sylvanas’ soft hands in her hair, gently running through her snowy locks. One hand behind Jaina’s head, Sylvanas carefully pressed her back down to the bed, her hair fanning out in a flowing pattern over the pillow.

Jaina opened her eyes to find Sylvanas looking at her with more love and desire in her gaze than she had ever seen. A full-body shiver ran through her, gooseflesh rising all over her body. She wanted Sylvanas even more than she already did, wanted to forever be in the woman’s arms.

“You are so beautiful,” Sylvanas whispered, and Jaina swallowed at the sincerity in her voice, surprised to see a dark tear drop onto the banshee’s cheek.

“I was right,” Jaina whispered back, caressing her face, a teasing smile on her lips. Sylvanas smiled back, leaning down to nip at her neck. “And you know what?”

“Hm?”

“You’re beautiful, too.”

Sylvanas just chuckled and Jaina drew in a deep breath when the banshee moved down just a little, trailing chilled lips along her shoulder. She continued down, kissing every inch of one arm, taking Jaina’s wrist in one hand and bringing it to her lips. Sylvanas closed her eyes for a moment and pressed such a gentle kiss to warm skin that Jaina had to suck in a shaky breath to steady herself.

Sylvanas hummed softly, beginning to whisper in Thalassian. Jaina recognized that she was saying Jaina was hers, forever, voice muffled as she pressed tender kisses to Jaina’s breasts, sucking a nipple into her mouth. Jaina’s back arched off the bed, Sylvanas’ words and lips stoking the rising fire in her belly and increasing the ache between her legs. A keening sound escaped her throat and she whimpered Sylvanas’ name.

In quiet Thalassian, Jaina whispered, “I need you,” and Sylvanas stopped lavishing a tender nipple to quickly look up and claim Jaina’s lips in a burning kiss, her hands moving steadily down, fingertips grazing her stomach.

“Always?” Sylvanas asked, also in Thalassian. A smile spread over her lips.

“Always,” Jaina answered, still in Thalassian. “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

They kissed again, then Jaina began gently rolling her hips against the hand that was now between her thighs. That hand stroked her open and slick fingertips danced over her clit, circling it again, making her close her eyes as a long moan escaped her and her entire body quivered helplessly. Those fingers were inside of her in an instant, joined a few seconds later by a wandering tongue when Sylvanas slid down her body and pushed her face between trembling thighs. Jaina uttered a gasping moan, her hips rising off the bed as her hand went to the back of Sylvanas’ head, tangling her fingers in soft hair.

Sylvanas curled her tongue within as her fingers stroked and twisted making Jaina continue to gasp and shudder, her back arching off the bed once more. She was growing close and she said so, murmuring in Thalassian, telling Sylvanas what she wanted, what she needed, her words producing a deeply content moan from Sylvanas as her long ears perked up. The banshee answered Jaina’s wishes, wrapping chilled lips around her clit, tongue flitting out to lick it softly, making Jaina cry out, her entire body nearly convulsing.

“Make me come,” Jaina whispered in Thalassian, her voice hoarse, “I’m yours.”

Sylvanas increased her efforts, her lips and tongue and fingers making Jaina writhe and fist her hair harder, hips pumping relentlessly against her mouth. Jaina kept whispering in Sylvanas’ native tongue, feeling the effect it had on her, feeling how intensely it was making the banshee work, and Jaina realized she had never felt quite this connected to someone before.

Sweat glistened all over her skin and her heart hammered in her chest. She was trembling and shaking, Sylvanas’ mouth and hand driving her crazy in the best way. Suddenly, Jaina’s hands flew to her own mouth, trying and failing to muffle the scream of absolute pleasure that tore from her lips and made her shut her eyes tight, stars bursting behind her eyelids. Wild waves of pleasure engulfed her entirely and she finally went limp on the mattress, trying to catch her breath.

She was so out of it, so beautifully lost in ecstasy, that she was only vaguely aware that Sylvanas had crawled up beside her, wrapping her in safe, loving arms. She was still panting, her heart nearly beating out of her chest. Sylvanas was sweetly wiping a bit of sweat-matted hair out of her eyes and planting refreshingly chilled kisses against her damp forehead and burning cheeks.

“Tides...” Jaina murmured, taking a long, deep breath, still trying to recover.

Sylvanas chuckled and stole a kiss, then rested her cheek comfortably against Jaina’s shoulder. “You know more Thalassian than I thought.”

“Like I said,” Jaina began with a smirk, “I mainly learned the dirty stuff.”

Sylvanas chuckled again and gave her a squeeze, drawing out a huff of a laugh from Jaina. “Let’s sleep,” Sylvanas whispered, “and enjoy our last full night of rest before Tyrande hands down my sentence.”

“Not yet,” Jaina whispered back, flipping onto her side to face Sylvanas and sliding a hand between damp thighs.

“Dalah’surfal,” Sylvanas said softly, shaking her head, “I’m all right, you don’t need—“

“I’m yours,” Jaina purred in Thalassian, “and you’re _mine_.”

Sylvanas shivered, her red eyes filled with love and barely concealed desire. Jaina let her lips hover near Sylvanas’, feeling smug and powerful when the banshee’s lower lip reached out for hers. Soft smirks formed quickly on their faces and then melted away as Jaina let her mouth crash into Sylvanas’, claiming chilled lips in a sensual kiss.

Pulling back slowly, Jaina let her fingers coax Sylvanas open, watching as the banshee closed her eyes and moved just a bit closer. Jaina recalled their first time together, how it seemed as though Sylvanas had played the part of the conductor of a symphony, and she wondered if she could do the same.

Her fingertips just grazed Sylvanas’ clit and Sylvanas already seemed to be singing. Jaina smiled softly, her fingers working slowly, drawing out gentle, humming moans, making Sylvanas’ muscles quiver and tense at each touch.

Jaina continued her languid exploration, continued conducting a soft, slow ballad, Sylvanas’ voice beginning to sound almost lyrical as she whispered her desires in gentle Thalassian. Jaina whispered back to her, their harmonies filling the room as Jaina picked up the pace, fulfilling Sylvanas’ wishes.

Her fingers splayed inside, then curled against the ridge that made Sylvanas tense up further and sing out a high-pitched plea. Jaina was spurred on, her fingers working deftly, unremittingly, while the heel of her hand rubbed against Sylvanas’ clit.

In Thalassian, Sylvanas crooned, “I’m close... just a little more...”

Jaina responded by keeping her pace, a lovely discipline in her fingers as she carried on with the song, carried on with her movements, until Sylvanas was lightly digging her fangs into her shoulder, the banshee’s whole body trembling as she reached a crescendo, singing Jaina’s name.

Jaina’s heart was pounding again and she gradually stilled her fingers, Sylvanas still shivering against her from gentle aftershocks. Jaina pressed calming kisses to her forehead and cheeks and one to her nose, bringing out a gorgeous smile from the banshee that nearly made Jaina’s breath catch in her throat.

“Now we can sleep,” Jaina whispered teasingly, and she squealed when Sylvanas nipped her shoulder again and tickled her belly. There was another gentle moment between them before Sylvanas’ smile faded and she sighed against Jaina’s shoulder.

“Can we... talk a bit first?” Sylvanas asked suddenly, and there was such seriousness in her eyes that Jaina’s breath finally did catch in her throat. Sylvanas had wanted to sleep before, but now she wished to talk. A cold feeling of fear clutched at Jaina’s heart.

“Is... everything all right?” She was aware that her voice sounded unsteady and afraid, and she closed her eyes when Sylvanas held her tighter and pressed soothing kisses to her forehead.

“Everything’s fine, I just... wanted to talk about what we saw and... _who_ we saw...”

Jaina gasped and winced against the sob that unexpectedly rose in her throat, and Sylvanas managed to hold her even more closely, drawing her into such an intense and beautiful kiss that Jaina nearly cried on the spot. She did not want to talk about who they saw. Seeing Kael was not as upsetting as she thought it might be, and she and her father had managed to have a heart to heart talk that eliminated the guilt that had lingered within her over his death.

But Arthas... Arthas had been far more difficult than she could have imagined. She believed what he said, but it had been extremely hard to accept, and a voice in the back of her mind kept trying to tell her that the doubt she felt when she faced him had been valid, that he was just telling her what she wanted to hear, that the closure she thought she had finally gotten was a lie.

He had sounded sincere, sounded as though he had changed for the better, and his actions seemed to support it, but had he really changed, or was it just an act? The voice was almost yelling at her now and she began shaking her head, not wanting to believe it.

For her own sanity, she needed what Arthas had said to be true, she needed to believe that he had changed. She told him that she had accepted she had made the right decision at Stratholme, that she had eventually moved on with her life after everything, and it was true, even if she may never truly shake the feeling of “what if.”

Sylvanas had been gently kissing her cheeks and her forehead, stroking her hair and continuing to hold her close. The love and understanding in Sylvanas’ actions finally made the floodgates open and she sobbed on Sylvanas’ shoulder. She explained everything, explained how she felt, explained the words they had exchanged, explained the doubt and worry that plagued her.

Through it all, Sylvanas listened without speaking, planting gentle, reassuring kisses anywhere she could reach. When Jaina had gotten everything out of her system, only then did Sylvanas speak, uttering the most succinct words that Jaina could have imagined to sum up exactly how she felt.

“Fuck him.”

Jaina sputtered and laughed, she could not help it. Sylvanas was smirking, her expression smug and slightly silly.

“_Fuck him_,” she said again, and she grinned as Jaina drew her into a kiss.

That seemed to be all Jaina needed to hear and she closed her eyes as Sylvanas wiped away her tears, speaking sweetly to her in Thalassian. With a soft smile on her lips and Sylvanas’ arms wrapped securely around her, Jaina’s mind calmed and cleared itself of the remaining stress, and let her succumb to sleep.

***

Jaina awoke the next morning to an empty bed. She looked towards the kitchen, finding Sylvanas already bathed and dressed, her ears back and her hood down, her hair a bit wet.

“Morning,” Jaina said with a yawn, flushing a bit when Sylvanas turned to her, eyes raking appreciatively over her body.

“Morning,” Sylvanas returned. With a sigh, she added, “I wish I could get out of this armor and crawl back into bed with you.”

“You can,” Jaina said, leaning back against the headboard. “We can be a little late...”

Sylvanas smiled and turned back to the pot she was stirring, saying reasonably, “Probably not the best idea to be late for this.”

Jaina reluctantly nodded and left the bed, slipping into a robe that Sylvanas had folded and placed at the foot of it. She padded towards the kitchen where she wrapped her arms around Sylvanas from behind and rested her cheek against a shoulder blade. Sylvanas relaxed in her embrace, a gentle sigh on her lips. Jaina closed her eyes, enjoying the moment.

“Your oatmeal will be ready soon, and there’s a bath going that should be just about filled. Oh, and I washed and dried your clothes, they’re laying on a chair back there.” She gestured over her shoulder and Jaina spotted her clothes in the small living room on a plush chair.

“You’ve thought of everything,” Jaina chuckled, kissing the back of Sylvanas’ neck.

“Everything except how to truly convince Tyrande of my innocence...” Her shoulders slumped forward a bit and Jaina held her tighter.

“Whatever happens today, I’ll be with you,” Jaina said, pressing another kiss to her neck.

Sylvanas chuckled, saying, “I know you will. That’s what’s getting me through this.”

Jaina smiled and Sylvanas turned in her arms, capturing her lips in a long kiss that had Jaina gasping softly when they separated. Sylvanas ran her hands over Jaina’s arms, then lifted them upwards, sifting through tousled white hair. Jaina pressed her forehead against Sylvanas’, breathing evenly, thinking about what was to come.

She considered what Sylvanas had said the night before, and she worried the banshee was likely right about the sentence length. She shivered, her heart beginning to pound in her chest. Sylvanas’ soft voice pulled her from her thoughts.

“Get in the bath. Your breakfast will be ready when you’re done.”

Jaina nodded mutely and Sylvanas kissed her, then turned her around and pressed a hand to her lower back, gently pushing her forward. Jaina sighed and walked to the bathroom, shutting off the water, removing her robe, and climbing in. She leaned back, closing her eyes, and wished for Tyrande to grant Sylvanas mercy.

***

Jaina and Sylvanas had arrived in Stormwind’s throne room—soon to be council room—ahead of Tyrande and Malfurion. Everyone who had joined them in the Shadowlands was in attendance and the pair stood with Alleria, Vereesa, and Thalyssra, speaking quietly while they waited.

After a few minutes had passed, Jaina began to get a bit antsy and Sylvanas just smiled and calmed her with a light kiss to her temple.

“Where are they?” Thalyssra wondered aloud as Jaina, Alleria, and Vereesa shrugged and shook their heads.

Sylvanas smirked and replied, “I’m sure Tyrande wants to make a grand entrance, per usual.”

Jaina frowned, her expression irritated. “She already suggested a solid plan for peace and she showed that she can be reasonable, even kind. Why the posturing for this?”

“I’m not terribly bothered by it, if I’m being honest,” Sylvanas admitted softly. “Losing her people, losing her home, she’s never going to get over that, not really. If putting me in the Stockades for a while eases her mind at all, then...” She smiled as she shrugged her shoulders. “Why not?”

Jaina was still frowning. She understood, she had been through what Tyrande had been through, and she had also had revenge against Garrosh for Theramore. For Teldrassil, N’Zoth had been vanquished and Azshara had been permanently imprisoned in the Shadowlands, by Tyrande’s own hand.

Surely, all of that was enough that Sylvanas did not also require a prison sentence...

Jaina heaved a sigh, and she might have given Sylvanas’ words more consideration had Tyrande, with Malfurion at her heel, not walked into view. The Night Warrior carried herself proudly and the look on her face seemed to indicate she was in good spirits. Jaina hoped that would bode well for the sentencing.

“Good morning, everyone,” Tyrande greeted them, her voice surprisingly warm and soft. “I hope you all had a good night’s sleep.”

There were scattered murmurs of agreement, but Jaina felt herself becoming more and more nervous and tense on behalf of Sylvanas, wanting to get underway.

“I imagine you all have other matters you wish to attend to, so I’ll make this brief.” Tyrande turned to Sylvanas. “Sylvanas Windrunner, while you may not have been in control of your actions, no one can deny that those actions still took place. I do not want to punish you harshly for what was only indirectly your fault and directly the fault of the slain N’Zoth and the imprisoned Azshara. As I said last night, I don’t believe I’m unreasonable, and I do hope you’ll agree.”

Jaina felt her tense shoulders relax just a little, beginning to believe that the sentence may not involve time in the Stockades. Perhaps, it would just involve house arrest or community service, and Sylvanas would avoid jail time altogether.

“With all of that said, I’ve decided on what I believe to be a fair sentence, to be served in the Stockades.”

Jaina felt her stomach drop at Tyrande’s words, but she braced herself, turning to Sylvanas and finding the woman she loved with a calm expression.

“One year.”

“_What_?” Jaina fumed, clenching her hands into fists. Tyrande kept insisting she was not unreasonable. Jaina had believed her... until now. A year seemed incredibly harsh, even if it could have been much worse, and Jaina knew she was likely reacting more emotionally than was necessary. “That’s insane and you know it.”

Tyrande casually folded her hands behind her back as she addressed Jaina. “Keep it up and you’ll find yourself sharing a cell with her.”

Jaina glanced at Sylvanas, then back to Tyrande, ignoring Sylvanas’ almost pleading look. She recalled the meeting after they had returned from Ny’alotha and lifted her chin defiantly. “I’ll be by her side no matter what you do.”

Sylvanas’ gaze burned into her, but Jaina ignored that, too. Tyrande was shaking her head in disbelief.

“So be it,” she said. “I’ll be kind, you can split the sentence. Six months for both of you.”

Jaina fought the urge to grin as Sylvanas took a step closer and pressed a hand to the small of her back, her fingers moving in gentle, lazy circles. Jaina felt calm as Tyrande walked by them out of Stormwind Keep and in the direction of the Stockades, loudly clearing her throat, apparently expecting them to follow.

Jaina did smile then, turning to Sylvanas and finding her with a smile as well. The other leaders in attendance seemed to be struggling to hide their reactions of shock, amusement, or both. Anduin looked truly horrified, while Thalyssra looked incredibly amused and not remotely surprised. She smirked at both of them. Alleria and Vereesa seemed equally not surprised, with Alleria just shaking her head slightly and Vereesa giving them a watery smile.

The pair turned around, Jaina reaching for Sylvanas’ hand, and made their way towards the Stockades.

***

The cell door shut loudly and Jaina and Sylvanas slipped their fingers through the bars, looking expectantly at Tyrande. She quirked an eyebrow at them and Jaina detected just the slightest hint of a smirk tugging at the Night Warrior’s mouth. When she spoke, her voice was lilting and amused.

“There’s always the chance you’ll be released early.” Jaina’s ears perked up at that. “In fact, it’s highly unlikely you’ll serve anywhere _near_ your sentence...” She smiled and gave the two of them an almost imperceptible wink. “But for now... six months.”

She walked off with a smirk and Jaina turned to Sylvanas with a slightly nervous look that was still full of hope. A smile tugged at her lips as she drew Sylvanas into her arms. Softly, she whispered, “Do you think we’re in over our heads?”

Sylvanas’ eyes warmed under her gaze and she grinned as the banshee kissed her nose. “We absolutely are, Proudmoore.”

Jaina slipped her hands into Sylvanas’ hair and leaned in, kissing her deeply. Sylvanas pulled back after a few moments and kissed her nose again, a grin playing on her lips.

“We are,” she murmured softly, sweetly, “and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnd done!
> 
> Allllllll the callbacks in this chapter. :D
> 
> Thanks to everyone who ever clicked, it means a lot to me that anyone even gives my silly stories the time of day. <333
> 
> Hopefully, my latest attempt at fixing BfA was a fun ride. I very much enjoyed writing this out over the last several months and I’d like to think it all came together decently well and provided some entertainment for everyone.
> 
> The hardest part of the fic for me was writing Arthas’ return and his interactions with Jaina as well as his actions within the Shadowlands. I wrote and rewrote his sections and I hope they turned out well. Likewise, I also hope my lighthearted interpretations of the Jailer and Arbiter came across well.
> 
> In any case, I want to thank everyone again for reading! I like this universe I’ve created, and I’d like to add some one-shots where the gang (or part of the gang, anyway) returns to the Shadowlands to revisit old faces. I have ideas, but nothing too concrete yet.
> 
> For now, I’m looking at revisiting older fics (looking specifically at _Broken_, where I’ve already been working on a fourth chapter, as well as _Permission Granted_, where I’ve been messing around with some ideas for a second part) and will probably add some chapters to one or two if they’ll fit within the story I’ve told and still want to tell.
> 
> Thanks for reading! <333


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